Tomorrow
by Another Girl Grasping
Summary: After the events of The Miller's Daughter, clean-up comfort duty turns into something else entirely. Rated M for sexual content. Swan Queen.
1. Tomorrow

_Tomorrow_

A/N: Piece from a while back that I finally finished. Beta'd by the effervescent _GreyElla_. Check out her stuff, she's an effing baller.

Disclaimer: Set after S2E16 - _The Miller's Daughter_. I do not own these characters. I do not own the settings.

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Regina stands staring at her fractured reflection. She wonders, not for the first time, exactly what causes the destruction of the things she loves. Her favorite mirror. Her favorite vintage cider, of which she'd only had three bottles, now two. Her relationship with Henry and now... her mother. Just those few brief, shining moments of her mother's radiant smile and then...

She eyes the amber rivulets running down an otherwise pristine wall (if one didn't count the maimed mirror, and Regina didn't). She follows them down to the floor. Shattered remnants of clear glass mingle with reflective pieces of mirror. As if she's looking back up at herself, just another face, mocking. Look at what you've done now.

All of it was the damn blonde woman's fault. Thinking to blame herself for the destruction and consequent mess was simply out of the question. For the former mayor it may as well have been Emma who'd violently thrown the cider decanter at reflective glass. Emma fucking Swan.

The grating noise of vibrating cell phone against wooden floor derails that lonely train of thought. With a few uneven stiletto heel clicks she stands over the offending device. She already knows who it is. The Savior. The thought sits uncomfortably in her psyche. It would be one thing if she could spit at the title, but even Regina has been touched by the savior. Her son would be dead if not for the pure love transferred to Henry from those thin, pink lips. She would be dead if not for her constant interfering nature. The thought makes her even angrier. Had the fucking woman just eaten the damn turnover herself... or left town in the first place, her son would have required no saving. Her curse would have been intact. She would still be mayor...

She bends at the knee. Her movements slow, overly measured. The movements of someone just drunk enough to have incomplete control of her faculties. But not drunk enough to throw caution for well being to the wind. She gingerly reaches for her phone, quite pleased at being able to maintain her balance. It's on the standing-back-up maneuver that her stiletto'd right ankle gives a sharp turn and she lands unceremoniously on her posterior.

Pain shoots through her left hand, small shards of glass embedding themselves into her palm. She feels a dampness seeping into the seat of her pencil skirt. Clearly she'd underestimated the trajectory of the broken decanter. The phone gives another insistent vibration in her right hand and she barely represses the frustrated scream rising in her throat. Irritated, she looks at the messages.

"I need you to know that... Snow might be my mother, but what she did today, I don't stand by it." Regina scoffs. Surely the woman doesn't think she gets points for not condoning murder? Her eyes rest on the second message.

"Are you okay? Henry is worried." Of course, always Henry. No one else worries about her and Henry... he doesn't love her the way he loves the blonde. Not the way he loves a woman who gave him up and didn't raise him. All the years of devotion to his happiness... for this bitch to come and have him look up at her the way he should look at her...

"Fuck you." Is the only response she deems fit for the occasion. She laughs, imagining the surprised look garnered by the two words. After a few moments she feels the phone vibrate again.

"Fair enough." Her round eyes roll at the diplomatic response. Then the phone goes off again. "Just so you know, I'm outside." Her drunken haze doesn't allow her to comprehend the meaning of that statement.

"Am I supposed to care that you've gone out for a stroll on the night your mother arranged for me to kill mine? Should I ask if you've worn a jacket? What the fuck is your point?" She types angrily, satisfied for once with the job autocorrect has done of deciphering her drunken typing.

"Actually I am wearing a jacket, thanks. But I mean I'm outside your property line. Can I come in?" What?! Why is she here? Regina takes a look at herself. Cider-dampened and rumpled skirt, creased blouse... she distinctly recalls seeing mussed make up and hair in her broken mirror. Absolutely not.

"No. Go away." She types back and runs her fingers through tousled locks.

"Regina, please. I'm worried about you. You... shouldn't be alone right now." This gives Regina pause. It almost sounds as if the woman gives a damn. Collecting her strength, she pushes herself back up to her feet and over to the window next to her front door. Pulling the curtain aside, she peers out at the sheriff of a town that was once hers. She gives the younger woman credit for staying just past the fence. If she had come closer without permission there would be reason to face off.

Suddenly everything is funny. She lifts her phone and dials the other woman. She watches Emma look confusedly at her phone. "Hello?" Regina cannot stifle a giggle. She takes a moment and composes herself, putting on her best fuck-you-I'm-the-mayor voice.

"Sheriff Swan, there is a prowler lurking at my property line under the guise of giving a shit about my well being. Please remove the insipid woman." She gives a satisfied smirk at the silence.

"Regina... you really don't have to go through this on your own." The corner of her lip sinks.

"Just leave!" Regina yells, slamming her hand against the glass in front of her, forgetting about the shards she leaned on earlier. She cries out and Emma can just make out blood smearing across the window.

"You're bleeding. Discussion over." She says in that infuriating, savior-y way she has and the call clicks to an abrupt end. Before Regina can react Emma is barging up her walkway, jaw set in determination. She takes the four stairs at twos, much like Henry does and Regina almost smiles. But then the blonde is standing opposite her, blood smeared glass the only thing separating them.

"Let me in." Breath fogs up the glass momentarily, then clears. And those green eyes hold all the sincerity in the world. If only Regina could believe that it isn't some rouse. Some play for power. A way to convince her not to exact vengeance.

"Leave. Me. Alone." Emma takes a small step back at the biting tone, but doesn't leave. The women stare at one another, neither backing down. A bead of blood splashes on an expensively shoed toe. Regina's stare is broken as she looks down at her hand in alarm. Blood pools in her palm and cascades down her fingers. Shit.

"Just let me in. I'll help clean you up." Emma implores. Too shocked by the sight of her own blood Regina quits her previous arguments and opens the door. The sheriff takes a look at the state of the foyer and, wisely, chooses not to comment. Instead, she takes Regina by the wrist gently.

Perhaps it's the woozy feeling caused by the sight of her mangled palm or the alcohol that allows the blonde to do so. Regina finds she doesn't have the will to fight the comfort of someone caring for her. Even if it were the last person she would ever choose.

"You've got a few shards of glass in your hand." Emma states.

"Oh, you possess brilliant deductive skills sheriff! It's a wonder you weren't in law enforcement before! Oh wait... prior imprisonment will prevent one from such a position elsewhere, wouldn't it? Good thing you found this town full of people who think the sun shines out of your rather nice ass!" The tirade is punctuated with a huff.

"I don't know why you're so angry with me. I'm trying to help here. I didn't suggest you get inebriated and fall onto some glass." Emma grits through her teeth. "And thanks." She adds.

"For what?" The brunette asks incredulously. Emma smirks at her.

"You complimented my ass." Round eyes regard Emma. Much the same way her own had regarded Henry when he disclosed her roommate was not only Snow White, but also her mom.

"You're delusional. I don't know why I'm allowing you to play doctor to my hand when you so clearly need one for your head." Emma laughs.

"Whatever you say. We should get you to the bathroom. Come on." She cups her hands below the bleeding appendage and allows Regina to guide her to the bathroom. The brunette appreciates the gesture, but frowns.

"You should be wearing gloves. Don't you know the risks of bloodborne pathogens Miss Swan?" Emma's eyes widen briefly.

"So... um... are you trying to tell me something right now? Cause before I had your blood on my hands would have been ideal..." Regina shakes her head.

"I'm not positive for any diseases of the blood, no. Still you should be more cautious." She notes the relieved breath the younger woman releases. They reach the bathroom and Emma lets Regina's hand hover over the sink as she adjusts the water to a pleasantly warm temperature.  
"First aid kit?" She asks, knowing that Regina must have one, in case Henry was ever hurt.

"Under the sink." Emma moves the injured hand beneath the water to soften the skin and finds the first aid kit. She grabs gauze, disinfectant, a long bandage and the set of medical tweezers.

"I could just magic the glass out." Regina interjects. Emma raises an eyebrow.

"You said yourself magic is unpredictable in Storybrooke. On top of that you're drunk and clearly don't react to the sight of blood well, you're pale as all hell. Do you really want to risk your hand?" She can practically hear the wheels turning in the other woman's mind. Before long the brunette merely shakes her head.

Emma takes a look at the task ahead. Four pieces of glass, none too deep. She can handle this. She grabs a piece of the gauze and holds it up to Regina's face.

"Say 'ah.'" One perfectly arched eyebrow rises. "You're gonna thank me later. Not like this is gonna tickle..." The older woman relents and parts her lips, grabbing the gauze with her teeth.

Emma realizes she's been staring at those full lips for too long when Regina grunts at her. She shakes her head and begins removing the glass. The former mayor sits eerily still, stoic expression only faltering once or twice in conjecture to quiet moans of pain. Finally all of the shards are out. Emma rinses the hand once more before giving Regina a pitying look and pouring the disinfectant over the hand. She can hear teeth grinding. After patting the hand dry, she places the remaining gauze across the delicate palm and bandages it.

"I think that ought to do it." Emma says, admiring her work. When Regina doesn't respond with a catty remark Emma looks up. The older woman is staring at her, gauze freshly removed by her free hand.

"Thank you." The words sound as though there are more shards of glass in her gums too. "I need some water, my mouth is painfully dry." Emma nods and stands. Suddenly a hand is held out before Regina. She doesn't know why, but she places her well-manicured right hand into the proffered one. The sheriff pulls her to her feet with an easy strength.

They take a few steps before Regina stops. She steps out of her heels. The difference is hard to place. It's a simple thing, removing one's shoes, but for Regina it looks much more like removing part of her armor.

Emma fetches two glasses and pours from one of those water-purifying pitchers in the refrigerator. "I hope it's okay... I am rather thirsty myself." Regina shrugs.

"Why not? You've helped yourself to everything else in my life." She drinks heavily from the glass. She thinks she hears Emma mumble something. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that dear." Emma smiles, noting the minor slur in the normally put-together woman's voice.

"It wasn't important. So... I know I'm not your first choice, but what you went through today... was fucked up. More fucked up than anyone deserves. So, I guess for once, I want you to know that you aren't the only one who sees that." She watches brown eyes narrow at her.

"My first choice for what? You have this irritating habit of beginning one thought, abandoning it, and beginning another. And apparently mumbling things." Emma gapes at her son's adoptive mother.

"Your first choice of... company? I don't know Regina! I just know that you shouldn't be left alone as if it wasn't your mother who..."

"Died, Miss Swan. She died. And no, you are most certainly not my first choice for company, but I don't exactly have a line breaking down the door, do I?" A sardonic smile spreads across full lips. Emma returns it with a genuine one.

"Is that your way of saying that I'll do?" Regina doesn't hear any sarcasm in the question and that surprises her.

"I won't lie and say that company is unwelcome. Today is unbearable. My only question is why you're here instead of with your mother? Surely your energies are better spent on your family?" The honesty was refreshing, easier than lying. She was far too tired for lying.

"She has David. She has this whole crazy town. I prefer to invest my energies where they're needed. I spoke to her. I doubt it was much of a comfort to her. I think she was wrong. I'm not the one who can offer her what she needs. And frankly I'm kind of tired of being the product of true love. It was simpler being the fucked up product of the foster care system." She was avoiding the brunette's eye. Regina doubted that the sheriff had expressed these feelings to anyone else.

"It seems we have more in common than just Henry." Regina commented and tilted her glass toward the blonde. Emma regarded her raised glass and clinked it lightly. They drank in silence for a while. "My mother tried to push me into a ready-made family. I was the queen, I am technically your step-grandmother." She laughed as Emma's nose crinkled in distaste of the thought.

"Um... No. Secondly; I always imagined that my grandmother would be a kindly old lady-"

"I'm not kind-"

"Yes you are. I see you with Henry... and who else has given you the chance? What I meant is that I never envisioned the evil queen as... well, a hot woman." Regina inhaled sharply. Emma averted her eyes again, taking a sudden interest in the top of the island.

"Well I never guessed that my annoying step daughter's child would have such a nice ass..." Lips smirk again. "Life is full of surprises."

"It's from David, have you seen the bubble butt on that man? I should have known I was related to him!" Emma didn't think she'd ever seen the other woman snort, but found she wanted to elicit it again.

"If life had been different maybe we could have been friends..." Regina lets the idea trail off.

"Who says we can't be now? We both lead these fucked up lives and we share one common good thing. Why not two? Why can't we? That night... when I drove Henry home, I'd hoped things could have been that way." Sad brown eyes regard her.

"I could have reacted better. But he is my son and... well now I've gone and lost him anyway. I should have known that the most effective way to neutralize an enemy is to make them a friend. I see that now. But we can't change the past." Emma allows her hand to rest on top of Regina's.

"Why not? I know you were trying to start over. Why-"

"Because tonight, I am drunk and vulnerable and reeling from loss and I need... someone. So badly, that I will allow that someone to be you. But tomorrow... tomorrow the world will look the same as it always has and I will have to avenge my mother. Kill your mother. You and I cannot stand on the same side of this line. You have to choose her. We both know that." The intensity with which the blonde is staring becomes uncomfortable.

"That's a fools errand. You know I can't let her die. You know I can't let you succeed and if by some horrible twist of fate, you do, you'll never get to be happy. You have a chance here. Your choices from here shape your life." Regina is nodding.

"Let's leave this subject for a more pleasant one. Had I been kind and welcoming the night we met how would that have gone?" She smiles and Emma finds it hard to believe this is the same woman who moments prior had causally mentioned that she was going to murder her mother. A small hand grasps her own. "Just go with it. We don't have to be enemies tonight." Emma feels her throat work, swallowing hard against the noise in her lungs.

"I wish you'd reconsider. All you'll do is prove to Henry that you are everything the skewed vision in his book paints you as." Emma implores. She can't read the expression on Regina's face.

"If it were you? If I'd just fooled you into killing Snow. How would you handle it?" She finally asks. Emma has no answer. "This topic isn't helping anything. Answer my original question instead." The blonde nods, keeping her eyes locked on brown.

"Um... I only know how I'd hope it would go. Regina, why did you break the mirror?" She knows this is dangerous territory.

"No segue to speak of. Your conversation skills are sorely lacking." Emma isn't stupid. She can see that the woman needs to talk. She can see that needing someone is incorrectly perceived as weakness.

"Okay, we don't have to talk about that... if you'd been welcoming? I had some grandiose ideas of being able to share Henry's love. Being able to share in the responsibility of raising a young boy. That we could have worked together to do what is best for him." Emma explains, running her thumb around the edge of her glass.

"You know, that sounds so much more appealing than what has actually come to pass. But it's not at all what I'm referring to." Green eyes snap up at the hint of arousal in the last statement.

"What are you referring to?" Emma asks cautiously. If she is reading the mayor's expression incorrectly... it could be very embarrassing and it would also mean revealing her own attraction to the woman across from her. She could easily be giving the upper hand to Regina. The brunette leans forward, blouse hanging off of her frame dangerously.

"I'm talking about the blush across your face when I lean over and you can see down my blouse. I'm talking about the lingering gazes that you think I don't notice. I'm talking about how your skintight jeans would only look better if they were on my bedroom floor. I'm talking about how it might have been if I'd just taken you to my bed the night we met like we both wanted." Emma notes that Regina's eyes darken as she speaks. She swallows just to have something to do.

"I... didn't realize that you felt that way." Still playing it cool. Still expecting that this was all some kind of trick to make her feel stupid for imagining a woman like Regina Mills would want her. She watches the brunette stand straight and walk around the island. It was certainly not the first time Emma had been this close to her and yet it felt like it.

"Miss Swan, your mistake was thinking I was not letting you in to protect my own feelings." Regina's arms surround Emma on either side, her hands on the island behind the blonde. Caged. Standing on her bare toes, her mouth comes dangerously close to Emma's ear. "Whatever good there is left in me was trying to keep you from the trap." Teeth nip at an earlobe, beginning a path down her jaw. "Everything I care for dies."

Regina stops just short of the sheriff's lips. "We can't Regina-" The woman in question presses her pillow soft lips against Emma's, cutting off the flow of speech. Caged again. Lips part and the women finally get a taste of what they'd both wanted from the start.

Emma couldn't stop now, even if she wanted to. All semblance of will fleeing, as she feels a hand sliding up her thigh. Regina's injured hand moves to gently unzip Emma's jacket, takes in the sheriff's braless state, smirking. "You say we can't, but you're making it so very easy, dear." Emma groans as full lips attach to her left nipple through her white cotton tank. Emma's shoulders roll, without her explicit permission, depositing leather on the chair behind her.

Regina smirks at the sheriff's low moan. She has her now. She is excellent at recognizing the moment when reluctance turns to acceptance. Her fingers deftly worked the button fly of dark jeans she's wanted to peel off of the blonde for as long as she's known her. The hiss of approval spurs her on, inching the denim down inch by impossibly tight inch. She releases the nipple and falls to her knees, undoing and removing leather boots.

Finally, after what seems a ridiculous effort, Emma stands before her, boy shorts and tank the only clothing between Regina and her prize. She isn't surprised at the red, boy style underwear; they suit her son's mother. "How do you get those jeans over these?" She asks.

"A lot of wiggling." Emma replies, chuckling. One perfect eyebrow rises at this admission. The blonde shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny of brown eyes. She takes Regina's hand and pulls the woman up to her feet.

Unpainted lips crash once more into smeared red. Emma never claimed to be graceful, laughing it off as part of her charm. Regina would never admit it, but it is one of the things she finds endearing about her. As lips part, Regina takes control of the pace, slowly trailing her tongue across Emma's lower lip. The former sighs at the contact. Their tongues entwine in an exploring dance, before finally breaking apart.

"Slow and steady, Miss Swan. We are not teenagers in the back of your ratty car. There is no rush." Emma blushes.

"I've never done this slowly." She is embarrassed at this fact. Thinking back on her trysts, all were rushed encounters. Even with Neal, she always felt like she was running. From what, she didn't know.

Her reverie is interrupted by the feeling of fingers sliding down her waist, tracing intricate and nonsensical patterns across her skin. Two thumbs hook into the red cotton waistband, pulling gently.

Emma watches Regina as the woman takes her in. Her breath has shortened, breasts rising and falling with each shallow intake. Cotton pools around her bare feet and she steps out of her shorts, kicking them mindlessly in whatever direction, not caring that she'll struggle to locate them later.

Regina notes the telltale mark of an aroused woman on the discarded garment. She chooses not to comment on it. Instead she focuses on the expanse of skin before her. She is momentarily surprised at the neat grooming before her; surprise quickly turns to a groan. The scent of Emma threatens to rob her of all self-control; the neat strip of hair above her slit does unspeakable things to the brunette's desire.

Regina can feel Emma's eyes trained on her. For the blonde it feels like an eternity before those round eyes turn up and meet hers. Regina rises, grabbing the hem of Emma's tank top and pulling it up, slowly. She relishes each new inch of pale skin as its exposed to her. Emma raises her arms and allows her final piece of clothing to be taken from her. It lands in nearly the opposite direction of the rest of her outfit.

The urge to fidget is nearly too great to ignore, but the savior manages to stand as proudly as possible whilst being the only nude person in the room. Darkened eyes take in every line and scar, every mark earned from a life of hardship. Slowly her hand extends, leaving enough time for the blonde to stop her, to end this before it begins.

She wants the woman, but she won't take her choice away.

Emma recognizes the gesture and steps forward, pressing herself against seeking hand. Acquiescence established, Regina's hand slides upward to tangle into curls and pull the blonde into another kiss. This one slower than the first, scorching in its intensity.

She takes note of the hands that have come to rest on her hips, pulling her body flush against the form before her. She finds that it isn't enough. Her own clothing stifling the heat that she suddenly craves. Emma is taken aback as the mouth connected to hers becomes assertive, controlling.

"More." Regina breathes after pulling back. She roughly untucks her silk blouse from high-waisted skirt, sliding Emma's hands up and over her bare skin. The sigh tastes like relief. Emma takes the hint and begins unbuttoning the blouse, exposing olive skin and trying to memorize the way the brunette's accelerated breathing sounds. The silk falls to the floor silently.

She doesn't think she's ever had sensory overload quite like this before. Like watching ballet while listening to a concerto and eating the most decadent chocolate cake. Everything about this experience pleasurable.

Emma reaches for the zip of Regina's skirt, and fails as the brunette once again falls to her knees. The sight of such a powerful woman before her that way is enough to elicit a moan. Full lips smirk in response. Even in this docile position she holds the upper hand. She runs her fingers across the soft flesh of Emma's thighs, sliding around to cup her ass and pull her forward. Emma groans, bracing herself with her hands on the kitchen island behind her. "Regina..." she whispers. She is lost in the moment, needing to feel everything the brunette's proximity to her sex promises.

"You'll need to ask nicely Miss Swan." Regina lets her breath tickle the wet folds before her. The muscles in her hands tighten.

"Regina-" she falters, hating to ask, but needing the reward. "Please." Her hips surge forward when full lips press against her mons. She groans when they are taken from her.

"I can't know what you want unless you tell me dear..." The amusement behind her words leaves no pretense of innocent ignorance. Emma grits her teeth.

"You know damn well what I want." She argues. She looks down, green meeting brown. Regina smirks, shaking her head.

"I'm afraid I don't." She relishes the frustrated whimper. She enjoys watching capitulation take place.

"Taste me." Emma finally whispers. "Please!" She adds as an afterthought when her request isn't fulfilled right away.

"Was that so difficult?" Regina teases. Emma is about to explain just how difficult it truly was, but all speech dies on her lips, resurrected as a deep moan when Regina's tongue delves between her folds.

"Oh gods..." Emma sighs and Regina is inclined to agree. It's been ages since she made love to a woman; she'd nearly forgotten how much she enjoyed this. Her tongue dipped into Emma's entrance, gathering her arousal and spreading it across her clit.

Emma white-knuckles the counter at the first feeling of Regina's tongue on her clit. Already her hips are rolling in a steady rhythm against the other woman's mouth. She ventures a look down at the face between her thighs and nearly comes undone, one hand releasing the lip of the island to tangle in short brown locks.

Regina moans as Emma's hand pulls her closer, the vibration making the blonde respond in kind. She hums again and slides her injured hand upward to tease the erect nipples above her. Her nails dig into the soft flesh of Emma's ass, pulling her sex against questing tongue even harder.

Emma's hard gasp is all the answer Regina requires; the blonde enjoys pain. How delightful. Those same nails drag downward and around a thigh, pulling one leg up onto a shoulder. Regina's tongue works tight circles around Emma's clit and just when the blonde believes she can't possibly take any more of this perfect torture, two fingers slip into her, in time with the tongue already working her.

She falls apart, head thrown back, spine arched. Colors burst behind her eyelids as her walls press in around Regina again and again. The brunette marvels at the sensation, her fingers in a vice, pulled in deeper by each wave of the blonde's orgasm. The sounds are the most beautiful she thinks she has ever heard and she longs for it to continue even as the hand in her hair pulls her away.

Emma falls to her knees beside Regina and kisses her, hard. Regina moans into her mouth, her own need built up to frenzy. She reaches for the zipper of her skirt, only to be stopped. She breaks the kiss, questioning with her eyes.

"Bed. I want to take you to bed." Emma says between breaths. Regina is shocked by the request.

"Why?" She demands.

"I've been thinking of ways I'd like to fuck you for over a year. Bent over your desk, or mine, up against a wall. And now I find, when I have the chance, I want nothing more than to see you amidst your own fine sheets and pillows, moaning for me. Bed." Emma demands. Regina isn't sure why the lump forms in her throat, but she swallows against it, hard. She will not allow this woman to weaken her resolve.

"Fine." She answers flippantly, standing and making her way to the stairs without waiting for Emma. She wipes the emotion from her eyes, masking it with arrogance and a little extra sway in her step as she ascends.

Emma smirks at the former mayor's backside, quite enjoying the view. At the top of the stair, she takes Regina's shoulder in her hand, turning the shorter woman to face her. Her hands travel down to bunch the pencil skirt around Regina's waist. The brunette groans as her lace panties are exposed for the first time. Emma easily lifts her, wrapping toned legs around her hips and making her way to the only door that stands ajar.

She deposits Regina softly on the edge of the bed, climbing onto her lap in straddle and kisses her neck. "This room smells of you. Of apples and cinnamon. I love cinnamon." Regina moans as lips find her ear and teeth follow.

"You reek of self-appointed authority." Regina baits. Emma laughs outright, rising to her knees and motioning for Regina to move further onto the bed.

"Well then, I'll have to find a way to earn it for once, won't I?" Regina snorts.

"Miss Swan, you wouldn't even know where to begin looking for it." Green eyes flash at the challenge. Hands grasp tanned wrists, pulling them together in one hand and holding them high above the brunette. Regina moans. This, this is what she needs, what she has never had. A loss of control.

"I think we both know that isn't true." Emma drawls. Her free hand ventures down Regina's side, moving to the apex between strong thighs. Her hand parts toned thighs roughly. She notes the hitch in Regina's breath. Smirking, she grasps lace and pulls it downward, stopping at Regina's knees. The brunette gasps as cool air caresses her most sensitive place.

"Leave your hands there." Emma demands. She waits for Regina to nod before releasing her wrists. Regina takes the cue when Emma slides a hand under her lower back, rising to allow the blonde access to her bra clasp. With ease the eyehooks come undone and Emma pulls the material up Regina's arms and over her hands.

She takes a moment to admire the round breasts before her. Gives Regina a moment before she undoes the zip at the side of her skirt. Watches her face as she pulls the skirt down over her hips and pauses at her knees, hooking the lace panties with her thumbs and removing both articles of clothing.

For a moment they regard one another. "You are... beautiful." Emma whispers. Regina inhales sharply. Emma utters the words as a statement of fact, not an ounce of flattery drips from pink lips. There is no arguing it. The savior believes the evil queen to be beautiful.

"Emma..." Regina pauses, deciding whether or not she is fond of how the name tastes. She doesn't register the darkening of green eyes until they are level with hers. The desire written there is palpable. So taken is she with the sound of her name on Regina's lips, that she doesn't register her demand being disobeyed.

Regina lowers her hands, one grasping Emma's shoulder, lips seeking out lips. The other travels down the blonde's arm, taking her hand and bringing it back between her thighs. Their mouths ghost over one another. "Take me... Emma."

The blonde hisses, closing her eyes tight. Two fingers slip into slick heat. "Fuck, Regina!" Emma exclaims, feeling for the first time how wet the other woman truly is. Regina digs her nails into Emma's shoulders as the blonde teases her folds, willing her for more.

Emma smirks, clearly not forgetting being forced to articulate her desires earlier. Regina's hips buck, searching for more fulfilling contact. Emma moves with her, denying the much needed friction.

"Damn you!" She growls. Emma chuckles and slides her thumb across Regina's clit, and moves away too quickly. "You're a bitch." Regina deadpans.

"I know." Emma replies, circling Regina's entrance with two fingers. "All you need to do is ask. Turn about being fair play and all." Emma lowers her mouth to take one perfect nipple between her lips. The resulting moan is laced with desperation.

"Emma!" The blonde refuses to relent. Regina twists her fingers into golden curls, jerking Emma's head back. Green eyes stare defiantly back at brown orbs. "Goddamn you. Fill me, make me whole."

The smirk hasn't even finished painting itself across Emma's mouth before two fingers slip into Regina. Full lips part, releasing a long, low moan. "More." Regina whimpers. Emma feels her own sex clench as she curls a third finger into Regina. "Fuck... yes..."

If asked, Emma would never have guessed that uptight Regina fuck-you-very-much Mills would be nearly as vocal as she was discovering her to be. Her hips rose to meet each thrust. She was incredibly beautiful in pleasure. Emma rose to her knees, hovering over Regina's thigh. The leverage allowed her to thrust deeper, harder. The angle allowed the heel of her palm to grind into Regina's clit.

Regina was getting close. And Emma's heavy breathing wasn't lost on her; she knew the blonde wouldn't need much to reach a second climax. She slipped a hand downward and found Emma's clit, matching her pace, reveling in their mingled moans.

Their eyes met once again, their bodies rocking in time with one another, lost in the rhythm they'd created together. Regina slipped over the edge, breaking eye contact, tossing her head to the side and closing her eyes. Emma followed soon after, her spine arched, hand furiously working as silken walls gripped her fingers.

Finally, Emma collapsed atop Regina. A tangle of limbs and erratic breathing where two separate women were once discernable. Emma held onto her son's other mother. And the woman allowed herself to be held. And for a time, the savior and the evil queen put those titles aside. For a time they were only Emma and Regina. Two broken souls, finding comfort in one another.

For a time, the coming of tomorrow and all the things tomorrow would hold just didn't matter...

* * *

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	2. Lie to me

_Tomorrow_

Chapter 2: Lie to me

A/N: Edited by yours truly, all mistakes fall down to me. Thank you all for the wonderful response! I'm not sure how long this is going to be, but I want to say no more than ten chapters, and maybe less. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Set after S2E16 - _The Miller's Daughter_. I do not own these characters. I do not own the settings.

Inspirational credits to Saosin, their song called _Its far better to Learn _was listened to on repeat and a few lyrics were tweaked for my purposes. Intellectual properties of the Master Bard's Romeo and Juliet are used in this chapter. (And hopefully not in a way that makes anyone want to roll their eyes!)

* * *

Tomorrow comes, in that horribly intrusive way it has of interrupting all the best things. Regina's head pulsates an inappropriately upbeat tempo, one that radiates through her hand as well. It seems she fell asleep on that arm. She's yet to move, yet to open her eyes and look out to see the first refracted rays of sunlight rising up over the horizon. As if it has any right to be a beautiful, new day out there.

She doesn't need to look up to know she is being observed.

"Stop looking at me." She groans. Emma narrows her eyes. When Regina doesn't feel the blonde's gaze shift away she peeks one of her own eyes open. "I mean it, stop doing that." She attempts to put her evil queen voice on, but her throat is too dry.

"Tell me you've changed your mind?" Emma sits, legs pulled to her chest. Her speech muffled, lips pressed against her own knee. The position bleeds the stench of apprehension into the air. Regina sighs.

She still hadn't learned that this wasn't going to blow over. There were higher forces than both of them at work here. No matter how Regina ran from her mother's influence, it always took over her.

"I told you that tomorrow would look like this Miss Swan. Our hours of line crossing have come to their close." She shifts, wrapping a sheet around herself. Yes, tomorrow has arrived and with it, her duty as avenging daughter.

Emma uncrosses her ankles and stands, nude. The first pale glow of sunlight falls across her hair, making her look far too angelic for Regina's tastes. Brown eyes watch as the blonde walks over the window. Hands shaking, she pulls the heavy curtains tight over the blinds, blocking out the sun entirely.

Emma chooses her movement carefully. She decides to press forward, pretending that the world isn't the awful place she knows it to be. Picking her way through the minefield of things that need to be ignored.

"It is not yet near day: it was the nightingale and not the lark that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear." Emma recites quietly, turning back toward the bed. Regina's eyebrows rise.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" She teases. Emma's lips lift in a sad smile.

"I always enjoyed my high school lit classes." She replies with a shrug. She climbs back into the bed, pulling the edge of the sheet from Regina's grip and settling back underneath. The two do not touch, both hesitant. Tomorrow can only be staved off behind the curtain for so long.

"You know they both die in the end?" Regina asks. It is a mean question. Emma sees it for what it is. She nods. "Yes, I know." She whispers, closing in, bridging the gap. She stops short of the full lips before her. Regina hesitates to close the space. It may be less cruel to end the game now. Rip the band-aid, as it were.

"It isn't real, Emma. Its just a trick of lighting..." She argues weakly. Emma's forehead presses against hers. Regina can feel the heat of pale skin, it calls to her. Her body begs her to just take and damn the consequences. She always crushes hearts. What was one more? And yet she hesitates.

"Then lie to me." Emma begs, willing those lips to press to her own. Regina gasps. She's never heard a more heart wrenching plea. People have begged her for their lives with less conviction. "Regina, I want you to. I don't care about how much I hate myself for it later. Lie to me!" Tears shine in green eyes.

Regina knows she shouldn't. But the world has gone to hell anyway. Why not take it just a bit further? She closes the space. Perhaps it was the nightingale after all. Emma's response tastes of desperation, of a need so great it could consume Regina whole. And she wonders briefly if that wouldn't be best for everyone.

Emma's hands weave their way into her hair, holding her close, giving her no choice but to stay pressed to the blonde. Oh, but if she'd just done this from the start... but that was a dangerous train of thought. If she had done many a thing differently, this would not be her current position.

Her body had its own ideas, molding into the blonde. Pressing against her with just as much need. Truth was a painful thing. Finding something beautiful, when it was far too late to keep it. That was the painful truth.

Suddenly Regina finds herself on her back, a thigh pressing between hers. Emma's mouth moving to trail rough kisses, laced with teeth, down her jawline, to her throat. Hands gripped her hips, bending her spine in arch against the pale woman.

This was a type of sex the brunette was unfamiliar with. This was passionate, it felt as if every inch of her was on high alert. What was this woman doing to her? She closed her eyes, attempting to ground herself. The feelings were taking her far too high, at this rate she would lose herself.

Emma's hands continue kneading her flesh, mapping her body. Her tongue dips into the hollow of Regina's throat. The brunette nearly chokes on her gasp, so overwhelming are the sensations she is accosted with.

Emma cannot stop. She has to touch every bit of the olive skin before her. She needs to make this one count, because this... this is the last time. Her movements are frenzied, unplanned and wanton. She grinds her thigh into Regina's sex, reveling in the wetness she feels there. Her mouth burns a trail from clavicle to breast.

Regina feels Emma place a kiss on the underside of her breast with a reverence she didn't believe possible in the blonde's eager state. The lump in her throat tightens again. She realizes with a start that this isn't just sex, this is desperate love making.

She can't allow this and she can't stop it. It feels as if she might implode if she doesn't find release. With a bit of magical help, she turns the two over. She straddles Emma's hips. The blonde is wide eyed with surprise.

Regina smirks, enjoying this position greatly. Unwilling to admit to herself that the former was too intimate for her to handle. She guides Emma's fingers to her entrance, pulling her other hand up to her right breast. As a thumb caresses her nipple, she sinks onto the fingers.

Emma moans with Regina. Her hips roll, toes digging into her sheets to steady herself. Emma moves her hand from breast to hip, steadying and allowing more movement. Regina moves further onto Emma's hand.

"Look at me." Emma says. Regina hears her and chooses to ignore her. That is, until the hand on her hip holds her still. She attempts to buck herself free of the hand, take what she wants. Emma's grip is surprisingly strong. Emma pointedly gives the hip a squeeze.

"What is it?" Regina asks, finally looking down at Emma. The blonde's eyes shine with sincerity.

"You look beautiful." She says quietly. Regina rolls her eyes.

"Don't-" That hand squeezes her thigh, nails digging in.

"I wasn't done talking." Emma snaps.

"Well you've chosen a rather inconvenient moment to want a chat!" Regina spits back. Truly, whose stops a woman whose well on her way to orgasm?!

"Yeah, I wanted to ask what you think my body is worth? Since you're riding me like an anonymous whore. Maybe we should have set a price beforehand? I'm not sure you can afford me." Emma says, giving a cruel twist of her fingers, garnering a gasp from full lips. Regina is taken aback and all of a sudden ashamed.

"What are you talking about?" She demands, knowing full well what the answer is. Emma presses her fingers into Regina.

"I want this as much as you do. Maybe more, even. But Regina, don't treat me like its not me you want. You think I can't tell when you check out of the situation? You're here with me. So be here with me." Emma lifts an eyebrow. Regina looks down. She allows the hand on her hip to turn her back onto the bed.

"I'm sorry." She offers softly. Emma nods. Her pace is slow, caressing as her fingers begin moving within the brunette. She watches as emotion plays devil's advocate behind cocoa eyes. She needs to plead her case at least once more. If she can get the woman to lay down her grudge, there is a chance everyone can move forward.

Regina allows Emma to see her conflict. The end result doesn't change, she has to do what she is meant to, kill Snow White. But she can give the woman at least the knowledge that she wishes she didn't have to build that rift between the two of them.

Emma smiles and kisses her way down Regina's torso, winking once before turning her oral attentions to Regina's clit. Regina's back arches at the combination of fingers and tongue. Her moans are akin to whimpers, in their gentility. This isn't the loss of control of the night before, this was entirely different. This was being unable to stop herself from wanting everything the blonde was giving her.

Her orgasm slips over her. Surprising in its intensity. Her eyes screw shut. "Emma..." she moans. The blonde suddenly picks up the pace of her fingers and tongue, pushing Regina off another quick peak. This one a hard, steep fall into bliss.

The thighs on either side of Emma quake and she leans her cheek onto one of them lovingly as she rides out the last waves of climax with the brunette. Withdrawing slowly. A slice of sunlight moves over them, having found a crack in curtained façade. Regina kisses Emma, long and slow.

Her fingers easily find their way to the woman's sex. Emma tries to stave off the orgasm that lingers just thrusts away, to no avail. The beautiful lie slips through her fingers like sand. She clings to Regina, fingers digging into her shoulders. Lips pressed against hers, mouth opened, moaning out her release.

Another beam of light enters the bedroom. Regina carefully, gently... maybe regretfully, pulls herself from the embrace. She waves a hand over Emma. Retuning her clothes.

Emma's eyes implore her. "If not for me, then for our son! He wants you to be the mother he loves." Regina regards Emma with a mask of detachedness.

"Yes, I've thought much about that. Believe me." She says. She wraps her arms around Emma. "Thank you for caring last night." She whispers into golden hair.

"I still care today." Emma insists. Regina sighs. She knows its true.

"It was the lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east..." It is not without a tear, that she sends Emma back home in a purple cloud of smoke.

Emma opens her eyes to find herself on her own bed. Her mouth opens in a silent cry of anguish. She turns her face into her pillow, allowing it to catch the watery evidence of her pain. She cries for an eternity before Henry knocks on her door. She cleans herself up and answers it.

"Good morning mom." Henry says carefully. Still weary of her since she lied to him about Neal. Another fucking can of worms she really didn't need right now. It was more than true what she'd told Regina. Being fucked-up, foster care Emma was much easier than having to be always on point.

"Hey kid." Emma replies. She ruffles his hair, trying not to think of his mother's hair, funny how his coloring was so much more like his adopted mother. "Whats for breakfast?" She asks. He shrugs.

"Dunno, grandma is all weird. And grandad looks worried. What's wrong?" Oh lord. Emma can't handle this right now.

"Let's go downstairs and figure out breakfast, then we can talk." She says, shutting her bedroom door behind her.

* * *

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	3. Murder Me

_Tomorrow_

Chapter 3: Murder Me

A/N: Edited by yours truly, all mistakes fall down to me. There is a time break between the two sections of this piece. The first scene takes place before Regina intercepts Henry in the woods, the second is after. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Set after S2E16 - _The Miller's Daughter_. I do not own these characters. I do not own the settings.

* * *

Emma waits. Breath held still and cold in thirsty lungs. She waits for Regina outside her house. Discontent flows savagely through veins. She couldn't be sure what world Regina thought they were in, but Emma knew that this was just not the way things worked in this one.

One didn't just get to pull on the very tethers of a woman's heart and poof them the fuck away. One didn't get to murder and justify doing so with murder. Emma's heart sank when Gold came to tell them of Regina's plan to take vengeance. She really had seen the better woman trapped beneath the vengeful surface. She wanted that woman. Wanted to see where things could go, If only...

If only she could get her to choose the right path. Maybe if she shows her what could be, family, happiness, she would decide against using the curse Gold described. She had to try.

Frankly, the whole situation is making her want to scream. Mary Margaret ought to be in the prison, and everyone was acting as if she needed to be coddled. Murder is murder. Just because the woman is Snow-fucking-White doesn't mean she gets to be pardoned without a second thought. It was a load of sanctimonious bullshit. And it seems that she and Regina were the only ones who saw it as such.

Well, Henry did too, but even he was far too willing to forgive the act in Emma's opinion. Emma fidgets, bristling at the sudden rise of irritation with her son. She understands why he is angry with Regina, she'd certainly earned his distrust, but his vision was too skewed by black and white. If Snow could be forgiven, why not Regina? She needs to have a talk with that boy.

The wind changes and Emma looks up. Regina has emerged from her home. She curses as glassy brown eyes fall right onto her, crouching behind a tree. She stands, no point in hiding when you've already been found. Sheepishly, she steps out from behind the tree.

"Why are you stalking me? I'm trying to mourn my mother." Regina demands. Emma looks at her feet.

"Yeah, that's why I waited here. Didn't want to intrude on... I told you that you didn't have to go through this alone. I'm not going to just let that go." She says to the ground, kicking some leaves around.

Regina eyes her, suspicious. "You aren't my savior, Miss Swan." She replies, dismissing the blonde.

"Really? Says who? Don't I at least get to choose who I want to save? I know you need someone. And damn it, I do too! No matter how hard you try to push away. Can't you just accept that you need me? I'm here." Emma takes a step toward Regina.

"I don't need anyone but my son, Miss Swan. I thought I'd established that whatever there is between us has run its course already." Cold words are sharp enough to cut. She intends to leave the blonde licking at her wounds. She will not be swayed by those eyes, by the pull she feels toward Emma.

"I can't help but hope you'll change your mind. End the cycle of violence. Cora killed Snow's mother, my mother killed Cora, now you want to kill my mother... and then what? Do I follow tradition and murder you? Does Henry then avenge you by killing me? It can't go on this way." Emma's eyes implore Regina to see sense. Regina's eyebrows raise. She takes a few steps toward Emma, effectively invading her space.

She notes the hitch in the blonde's breathing. A hand comes up, cupping a pale cheek, running up into golden hair. "Would you kill me, dear? Would you end my life?" She twists Emma's hair around her hand, pulling, baring throat to viscious mouth. She places the first kiss against Emma's throat, relishing the groan.

"Would you take me to bed one last time? That would be poetic." The next kiss lands on Emma's pulse point. "Kill me as I shudder out your name, flooding your hand with my pleasure?" She growls, her free hand deftly opening the button fly of Emma's jeans and slipping in. She feels the pooled wetness. "Tell me, Emma, why are you really here? Did you believe that you could seduce me from my purpose?" Emma whimpers when teeth sink into the skin just below her ear.

"I didn't come here for that. I came to talk." She argues. Regina tuts.

"Don't lie to me. I can feel the truth here, its pouring out of you. You've come for another fuck to try and change my mind. Do you think me a fool?" Regina hissses.

"You are a fool." Emma replies. "I won't let you get to Mary Margaret. I won't let you cast the curse." Regina is shocked. She pulls back and looks at Emma's face. Defiant, green eyes dare to challenge her.

"How do you know about that?" She demands, tightening her grip on blonde hair.

"So it's true, you are trying to steal Henry from me." Emma responds. She grabs Regina's hand, wrenching it from between her thighs.

" Rumplestiltskin." Regina says. Of course, he would know what she was up to. The bastard imp always seems to know too much.

"Yeah. You want to take everything from me. You've... done something to me. I hurt in my heart. You're breaking me and you want to kill my mother and take my son! What the fuck did I ever do to you?!" Emma pulls her hair free and shoves at the queen.

Regina smirks, coming at Emma again, pressing her up against the tree she previously hid behind. "You were born." She says, smashing her lips against Emma's. Oh but this woman. She would be the ruin of Regina yet.

Emma pushes at Regina's shoulders, to no avail. The brunette runs her tongue over pink lips, demanding entrance. When Emma doesn't oblige, she takes the blonde's lower lip between her teeth, savagely biting, drawing blood.

Emma gasps and Regina takes advantage, taking control of Emma's mouth. Against her own will, the blonde moans and melds and gives far too much. And all at once, not nearly enough. Her hands turn in the material of Regina's dress, grasping and pulling her closer.

Regina slides her fingers back down, below the waistband of Emma's briefs. This time the blonde moans pitifully into the mouth attached to hers.

Emma's eyes open. Clarity flits through her haze and she pushes hard, her magic pulsing out, tossing Regina off of her.

"No. I didn't choose to have parents that you hate. I didn't even meet them until a year ago! You don't fucking get to hate me for that!" Emma admonishes.

"You miss the point entirely. It's not that I hate you. You were born to break the curse. You are the kill switch to me. You... you are just the right thing to turn my vengeance off. And I can't let that happen. You asked me what your body was worth?" Emma braced, waiting for the knife in her chest to turn.

Regina tenses. "It's worth more than I can give. You're worth more than I am willing give. I will not bow to my feelings for you! I will not!" Regina pushes forward again, pressing her hands into Emma's and holding her. "You would make me soft. Weak." Brown eyes harden and hands turn rough.

"Would that be so bad? You would get so much more than the emptiness of revenge. You could have Henry... me." Regina shuts her eyes.

"Emma, I have to kill her. It's my destiny." Regina presses her lips against unresponsive mouth. "I will have my vengeance. If then, you feel you need to kill me-" She pauses, the notion turning over In her head. Not the worst way to go. "Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we?"

"Then you've made your choice. I hope your destiny will keep you warm at night." Emma blinks back on her tears, sliding out of Regina's arms. She does her jeans up quickly and heads back to her car. Regina debates calling after her, but stops herself.

There is nothing she can say to change the world.

* * *

The front door of 108 Mifflin slams with unnecessary force. The frame rattles for a good many seconds after, until Regina controls her rage and gently lays her hands on the painted wood, stilling it. Clammy forehead leans for a moment, eyes closed. She is losing the war against tears, they roll down her face, clinging to her mouth.

This is not what tomorrow was meant to look like! Tomorrow was meant to belong to her. She was going to win, kill her enemy, get her son. Have everything. Henry wasn't supposed to talk her out of it. And fucking Emma Swan. What right did she have being so... correct? Henry did want her to earn his love back.

_Not like this_...

If there were nothing left... it is justifiable to create where there is deficit. But her son, he still loves her and she can earn him back. To force him... she wasn't Cora.

She licks her lips, salty. A sob rips through her chest as she recalls the taste of pale skin, clean and slightly salty. She looks to the mess remaining in her hall. The walls are stained with cider, the floor littered with glass.

She raises her hand, now healed, and makes to fix the mirror. But her magic halts. She hears her son's voice ring through her mind.

_I'm getting rid of magic! Its ruining everything_...

She drops her hand, looking down at the skin, no sign of her accident last night. A shiver runs down her spine, recalling the tender way Emma had cared for her. Suddenly she wishes she hadn't healed it.

_Magic isn't the problem, kid. Its her_.

Hurt crosses her face. Not that Emma said it, no. Frankly the blonde was right. What hurt was that Emma looked to believe it for the first time. Regina finally succeeded in making the Savior see the monster she is. Just before she realized that she might not want to be that monster any longer. Truly, she is the author of her own destruction.

Isn't that just the worst? After years of playing marionette to her mother and Rumplestiltskin, the act is so ingrained that she pulls her own fucking strings.

"No more." She says to herself.

She steps around the glass and makes her way to the kitchen. Opening a small closet, she retrieves the broom and dust pan. Determined to clean up her mess by conventional means. Thinking that Henry would approve brings a small smile to her lips.

She gathers the mess into a pile and rids the floor of it, dumping it in the trash. She uses a damp paper towel to get any pieces she may have missed and knicks her finger. Round eyes narrow at the red bead forming on her skin. No one will come to wrap a band aid this time.

Settling for the old standby, she wraps her lips around the digit and cleans off the blood. Rising to her feet, she returns the cleaning supplies to their proper place, deciding that the rest can be left for later.

Acending the stair, Regina pauses. Memory accosts her. Emma's hands sliding up her thighs, pushing her skirt up. Wrapping her legs around strong form, hands gripping her, holding her... Regina shakes her head, closing her eyes. She keeps climbing the stairs.

The cutrains are still drawn when Regina returns to her bedroom. The bedding still a mess. Images play behind her eyes. Long lashes descend, she can't decide if she's trying to clear the memories from her mind... or see them more clearly.

Eventually she admits that she is enjoying the visuals. She moves toward her bed. She sits on the side where Emma slept, the sheets still smell like her. She lays back, surrounded in pleasant scents and day dreams. She knows she shouldn't allow herself to moon like some little school girl. She is half disgusted with herself.

No. More than half. She told herself that she wouldn't go soft for Emma. She could reason that it was for Henry. That she let go of her Snow White hunt in favor of getting her son back. That even her mother just wasn't as important as he is. But the small, honest part of her keeps whispering that she is relieved that Henry stopped her.

She is deep down relieved that there is a small chance she might get to touch the blonde again.

Knocking reaches her ears. Her first thought is Emma. Emma has come back. It had to be her, after all she chose not to use the curse. She burned it right in front of her. She rushes down the stairs and wrenches the door open. Her face hardens immediately.

"You." She leaves the word hanging there.

"Kill me." Snow whines.

Regina's eyes widen. She scoffs. "What?"

"Regina we have been fighting for so long, its cost us so much. It has to end before anyone else dies. So please, just do it." This is pathetic even for the school teacher half of Snow. Could she be any more cliché? No, this was a trap. Just when she was figuring out how to get her son back...

"Henry would never forgive me..." Snow shakes her head. Henry... She told him that Snow has to pay. Snow has so much to pay for. So much unacknowledged blood on her hands. So unfair how the world labels Regina evil, as if she corners the maket on deplorable acts. No.

"But you know what my problem is?" Regina asks, as her pretty features twist in a snarl. "I never learn from my mistakes." Her hand reaches into Snows chest. She has waited for this moment for so long. She grasps the bitch's still-beating heart and wrenches it from her pale chest.

Finally she holds the long sought heart in her hand. Full lips spread in a genuine smile. "Huh." She breathes, her eyes bright. She turns the heart to Snow.

"Do you see that?" She asks, showing Snow that black spot in her heart.

"What did you do to it?" Snow whispers. Regina gives a cruel chuckle.

"Oh, I didn't do that, you did. You darkened yourself." She stares, fascinated with the horror overtaking Snows fair face. Snow is moaning out protesting no's. Regina glows at Snow's distress.

"Yes and once you blacken your heart it only gets darker... and darker. I should know." Regina can't seem to close her lips over her teeth, so great is her joy at this new revelation. Better than any curse keeping Snow from that dolt Charming. Better to let him have a broken wife. Better to let her suffer for the rest of her days. Suffer the way Regina has suffered.

Snow goes on about heart crushing. Regina looks up from the heart. She laughs. "And put you out of your misery? No. I don't need to destroy you, you're doing it to yourself." This was so much more satisfying than the sleeping curse. So much more delicious than watching Ms. Pure-as freshly-fallen-Snow martyr herself.

"And along the way you'll bring down that perfect little family you fought so hard to reunite. And then Henry will be mine." Yes, let her break everything, and for once, Regina will be the one to pick the pieces up. Snow looks horrified and that is worth everything. Worth allowing her to live. Worth leaving her duty to her mother unfulfilled.

"Please, kill me." Wouldn't that just be so neat? Snow sacrifices again and Regina stays the monster. Oh that must fit with Snow's worldview so nicely. Not this time.

"You see? I can have everything!" Regina plunges the heart back into Snow's chest. Feeling happy for the first time in so long. "Thanks to you. Now, get off my porch!" She spits. Snow sobs as Regina turns and slams the door in her face. She leans against it, smiling. She hugs herself reflexively.

Oh this was better than anything she could have planned. Let the bitch ruin herself. Regina would have it all. She would have her son and his mother. She would have her happy ending. "Thank you mommy." She whispers. None of this would be possible without her mother's sacrifice.

Now to get the Savior to taste her forbidden fruit all over again.

* * *

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	4. Handcuffs and garters and magic, oh my!

_Tomorrow_

Chapter 4: Handcuffs and Garters and Magic, oh my!

A/N: Edited by yours truly, all mistakes fall down to me. Whilst rewatching season two repeatedly in order to write this for all of you lovely SQ loving people, I came across a moment in _Welcome to Storybrooke _that was just begging to be filled with SQ . This is after Emma tells Charming that Mary Margaret needs to suck it up and before she meets MM in the diner, where Regina just happens to be at the same time buying pie for Greg. A slightly more light hearted chapter before I go back to DESTROYING YOUR HAPPINESS! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Set after S2E16 - _The Miller's Daughter_. I do not own these characters. I do not own the settings. Brief reference to Dr. Who. Songs which offered a bit or inspiration are _Spit It Out_ by IAMX and assorted songs by Imogen Heap.

* * *

To say Emma was fed up, would be a gross understatement. First David with his fucking breakfast in bed, oh-my-poor-wife routine. Yeah, poor Mary Margaret, she feels guilty for having a woman plunge a cursed heart into her own mother's chest! Well fucking excuse Emma for not feeling all that sorry for her. Ugh.

And then that whole thing with Neal, Henry and Tamara. Seriously? She loves her son, truly, more than she ever even knew that she could love anything in this world. But his tact? Just doesn't exist. Why would he ask how his father met the new woman, right in front of his mother? That's very much an Emma-isn't-here type of question.

Is she bitter? You're damn right, she is. The world is all fucked to hell. The man she hoped never to see again is back and engaged. Someone else got the fucking happily ever after she once believed in. Her son is all of a sudden the grandson of Rumplestiltskin. Her parents are still Snow White and Prince Charming (for fucks sake)! And then... Regina. Regina in all her powerful, broken, beautiful glory. Holding the key to Emma's weaknesses as if it's as tangible as one of her creepy skeleton keys.

Emma doesn't know if she hates her or if she wants to fall to her knees and crawl to her, woship her, kiss the hem of her dress. No one is as confusing or infuriating or... intriguing as Regina. She wants to lose herself in the complexities, swill the woman around in her mouth and taste all of her subtleties, like a well aged wine. And truly, the brunette had indeed aged well. She's shakes the Idea from her mind. No. Shes a cruel bitch, a sadist.

Emma pointedly ignores the part of her mind that reminds her of how much she enjoys playing with fire. How she yearns to be burned.

Snow confided the incident on the doorstep of 108 Mifflin to Emma. And while she'd been horrified that her mother had pulled a moth-to-the-flame routine, she is also relieved that Regina didn't kill her. Granted, Emma is pissed about the precision mind-fuck Regina delivered about the black spot in Mary Margaret's heart, but still, she's too easily forgiving.

Emma likes to think that she can be objective, that she can see situations without her emotions clouding her judgement. She can't help thinking that her ovaries are taking the lead on this situation. No, Regina didn't crush the heart. But only because she found a more malicious route of revenge. Emma shouldn't be so content to allow it to slide.

She's pissed at everyone.

Emma climbs the few steps to the station and slides her key into the door. After a few frustrated attempts to turn it in the stick-prone lock, the key finally clicks. Goddamn this town where absolutely everything is old and not in proper working order. Stupid lock.

She slams the door behind her, startling herself with the force. She needs to calm down. Thankfully, she keeps a small flask of liquid calm in the bottom drawer of her desk. She emits a sardonic laugh. Could have used a little kick in that coffee this morning.

Emma reaches the end of the hall and turns the light in her office on. She nearly jumps out of her skin at the realization that there is already someone in her office.

"What the actual fuck, Regina?" She says, slamming her leather jacket onto the small coat rack. Trying not to look at the woman who has so thoroughly confused her of late. She has several notions as to what her presence portends, each more wildly inappropriate than the last.

"Good morning to you too." Regina says and her voice is chipper enough to stop Emma in her tracks. She turns slowly and takes in the woman perched on her desk. Green eyes widen.

"Good morning." She croaks, mouth suddenly dry. Regina smirks and reaches out to close Emma's mouth.

"Regina..." Emma is at a loss. She finds herself unable to remember why she was so annoyed. "Dear god..." she whispers.

"Yes, either of those will do nicely, dear" Regina laughs. Emma shakes her head, attempting to clear her mind of this distracting new stimuli. She is angry. Right, angry.

"Whatever it is that you want, you've come barking up the wrong tree." Emma says, forcing her eyes away from the woman before her. She makes an in-depth study of her own boots. When a heeled foot slides up between her calves, she nearly forgets how to breath.

"Dear, I haven't come to bark." Regina croons, sliding her goot higher, along Emma's thigh. "I much prefer to bite." Her voice is silk sliding against satin, dripping with milk and honey. Her foot slides higher, curving around the apex of Emma's thighs, toned calf pressed dangerously against the crotch of the blonde's jeans.

Even though it is an admission of weakness, Emma steps back. If she doesn't remove herself from the situation, well, the situation has the power to remove her decisions from her own hands. Something she cannot afford right now is the loss of her sense.

"I think you had better go." Emma says, jaw clenched.

"You don't really want that." Regina replies, standing. Emma moans at the sight of her. The black dress is almost long enough to hide the garters holding up thigh high stockings. With her red painted lips and dangerously pointed heels Regina isn't a sight eaily ignored. And Emma admits to herself that the brunette is right, she doesn't want her to leave.

"Well, unlike you, I know that what I want isn't always what I should get." Emma replies, but even to her it sounds like she's trying to convince herself. One of those impeccable eyebrows rises in amusement. Emma thinks she must spend hours in the mirror perfecting the move. She lifts some papers from atop her filing cabinet, clutching them like a safety blanket.

"What a burden it must be." Regina comments, keeping her voice aloof. Emma's eyes snap up from the paperwork she may well be reading upside down for all the attention she's giving it.

"Don't." Green eyes narrow in warning. Heels click, crossing the room, hips hypnotizing in sway. Emma knows that it was stupid to give the woman so much insight during their ceasefire.

Regina backs the blonde up against the cell, papers floating slowly to the floor She knows just what to say. Just what to do. Emma will bend. "How trying it must be. They all see their savior, they all demand your perfection." Emma curses her. Curses her eyes, her hands that feel far too good pressed to her waist.

"You ripped my mother's heart out of her chest!" Emma reminds the brunette.

"I put it back in." She replies, as if its just that simple. Green eyes roll up toward the ceiling. Just don't look at her. Treat her like Medusa. The hands on her waist slide higher, approaching her breasts. Okay, scratch that. Treat her like one of Dr. Who's weeping angels. Dont even blink.

Pale hands clamp onto the tanned counterparts. Regina huffs at having been stopped. "You know, the whole not crushing my mother's heart thing? Kinda loses its charm when it's only because a solution that better suits you arose. She's suicidal, she showed up on your doorstep to commit suicide by proxy and you... You practically put a gun in her hand with all of that darkened heart shit." Emma takes Regina's hands off of her, looking lost for a moment. Then she laughs and puts them on the brunette's own breasts.

"So frankly, you can go fuck yourself!" Regina looks at the back that has just been turned on her. She sidles forward, pressing her front to Emma's back.

"Do you have any idea the self control it took not to crush her heart the moment I had it in my hand? The fact that I even hesitated to take a look at it wasn't from any sense of relishing the moment, It was because I thought of you and Henry. I thought about what I was doing to the two of you. How I'd lose you both. I hate Snow White. I will always hate her... but I love Henry and I... I care for you." Regina admits, her voice quiet, but strong.

"You don't get to walk in and out of my life whenever you fucking well please. I'm not your whore." Emma says, side stepping out of the embrace. "You made it clear that whatever it was between us has run it's course, or however you put it. It was the lark. He's your son! And every other thing you've ever said to push me away!" Regina can see that she is losing here.

"Is that my shirt you're wearing again?" She asks playfully. Trying a new tact. Cocoa eyes watch as the absurdity of the question derails Emma's anti-Regina train of thought. A flush overtakes pale cheeks.

"With everytjing being so crazy... haven't had time for laundry." She shakes her head. "That is not the point! And in fact, that brings me to another point. You said this shirt would be all I got!" Regina laughs outright.

"Yes, and it seems I've finally developed the ability to admit when I am wrong." It isn't easy to say. And Emma's eyes widen.

"Could you possibly say that again?" She asks slowly. Regina rolls her eyes.

"I was wrong. The shirt isn't all you get. He's Our son. It was the nightingale. Are you so blind that you cannot see that we have clearly not run our course? I snuck into your office to perch my ass on your desk and offer you more. So take it!" A huff pointedly punctuates the outburst.

"I can't! Regina I can't..." Emma has never been a fan of conflict, particularly not the type that takes place within herself. Body and heart say yes, but her mind knows. Her mind knows that Regina is the scorpion, she knows her nature. She has already chosen vengeance over Emma twice in one day alone.

Emma has a family now, for the first time. She has to watch out for more than just herself for the first time. Throwing herself into a situation that can break her... she puts more than just herself at risk and that isn't acceptable. She isn't a single bounty hunter anymore. She is a mother.

"Emma, stop thinking this to death. You want to do the right thing. I understand, but you must know that right is just an idea. What makes denying yourself, denying me, more right than being happy? Even if its only for a little while." Neither of them are ready to think about anything long term.

"I... I don't know. You've done bad things, but everyone does bad things. I know that. Everyone hurts other people in some way. You're no more or less dangerous than I am. I know all of this. But... they all look to me." Regina nods.

"I know, I know you're hurting. They all want so much from you. Let me replace the noise and fill you with silence instead. Let me take the decision from your... hands." Regina reaches out again and Emma doesn't stop her. Emma allows herself to be backed against the cell again. She wants to give in. It is so much easier.

Lips caress her ear and she shivers. "Just say yes." Regins whispers. One hand wraps around a wrist, the other sliding up Emma's back, deft fingers sliding her handcuffs out of their holder.

The blonde presses her body forward. And for once she allows something for herself. "Yes..." Regina smiles brilliantly at her. Before green eyes can even widen, Emma finds herself facing the inside of the cell, hands cuffed above her head, loooped through one of the bars.

"Fuck! Regina at least lock the station door, anyone could walk in." Emma pleads. She is pissed at herself now. She would get herself into this predicament.

"No." The brunette replies simply, unbuttoning the silk blouse from pale form, untucking it from tight jeans. Her sex grinds into Emm's ass. "Do you know what this position makes me want to do?" Regina asks.

"I'm going to to with; Fuck me, for 500?" Emma spits. Regina tuts. A tan hand finds its way into blonde locks, twisting and pulling her head back.

"Cheeky thing." She admonishes. "But yes, it makes me want to fuck you. Hard. Gold star for the sheriff." Emma laughs.

"That ship sailed a while back." Emma jokes. Regina narrows her eyes at the blonde.

"I don't understand." This only makes Emma laugh even harder. Clearly Regina isn't caught up on LGBT terminology.

"Gold star is a term used to describe a woman who prefers the company of women and has never slept with a man. And well, you've raised my son, so we know I'm no gold star." Emma explains. Regina snarls.

"I don't want to think of anyone else having you, least of all a man." Emma is surprised by the possesive tone.

"Surely it occurred to the you that Henry had to have come from a past lover?" Regina bristles.

"I don't care about what you've done in the past, I just don't want to hear about it whilst I'm with you." She clarifies. She is in fact surprised by the streak of jealousy that shot through her at the thought of the blonde beneath some man.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. It's not my favorite subject anyway." Emma agrees. She'd had enough of Neal bullshit to last a lifetime already today.

Regina eyes the woman before her. She cannot explain the need to possess her. She finishes unbuttoning the shirt and closes her hands over Emma's breasts, kneading. Hips roll backward into her sex and it occurs to her that she wants to truly fuck her. Her hands caress down the pale torso, grinding her hips forward.

She undoes tight jeans, pulling them down to Emma's knees. The black boy shorts don't surprise her. "I'd like to see you in something more femimine." Regina comments idly, pulling them down to join denim.

"Well, its not as if any of our encounters have been planned. But that can be arranged with a bit of advance notice." Emma teases. The smirk on her lips evolves to grimace when a cruel hand comes down on her ass.

"Fuck!" Emma cries out. Regina follows the first slap with two more in the same place. She relishes the painful moans, running her cool fingers across heated skin.

"Do you like it, or should I stop?" Emma tries to think.

"Yes ..." She moans pitifully as fingers slide lower, over her sex.

"Yes, stop?" Regins asks innocently, fingers retreating. She laughs cruelly as Emma pushes back, trying to follow her hand.

"No! Don't stop!" Emma is beyond the point of being proud. She is a puddle, trying to spread her thighs further, but her jeans stop her.

"No, I want them close." Regina explains. She looks down her front and concentrates. A smirk crosses her mouth when she feels leather wrap around her hips and the bulge push her dress out. She grinds into Emma again and the blonde's breath hitches at the new appendage.

"Oh gods..." She groans. It feels huge pressed against her and she wishes she could see the brunette in her come-fuck-come heels, packing in that second skin, excuse for a dress.

"You know, you keep calling me that and it's doing nothing for my humility." Emma scoffs at the joke.

"What humility?" She replies. Regina laughs. She lifts her dress up to her waist and positions herself where Emma needs her.

"Good point." Both women moan as the cock slides into Emma. Regina gives hardly anything, slow, shallow thrusts driving the blonde mad. Emma attempts to push her hips back, but Regina steps back with her until her cuffed hands prevent her from moving any further.

Regina takes in the sight before her. She hasn't even allowed the blonde to undress properly, she has her strung up and needing her. She enjoys the expanse of skin from thigh to the dip in her back. She enjoys the arch of her body, due to her arms pulled taut. She continues her slow, shallow torture, caressing Emma's waist and hips.

"Fuck, come on!" Emma demands. Her voice drips with desperation.

"Is that how we ask?" The brunette purrs, scratching a trail down outer thighs.

"Fuck you, you sadistic bitch!" Emma cries out, only growing more frustrsted when the woman behind her laughs. Her body tenses as a hand comes down on her ass again.

"You'll learn manners, yet." The calm tone speaks to how long Regina will hold out if Emma doesn't ask nicely.

"Regina, please give me more." The brunette smirks, grabbing pale hips and thrusting just as slowly, but in longer strokes. Emma groans.

"God dammit, Regina! Do I have to ask for everything?" The pace stays the same. Fine. If she wants to play, Emma can play. The blonde looks over her shoulder, an endearing strand of hair falling across her face.

"Regina?" She asks sweetly.

"Yes, Emma?" Playful brown eyes challenge the blonde.

"I need you." Regina gasps as a thrill shoots through her, to her core. Emms smirks. "I need you deep." She thrusts her hips back. "I need you fast." She moans as the olive toned hips finally increase their speed. Emma looks Regina directly in the eye. "I need you hard and close." She finishes.

The brunette moans, her hands gripping Emma's hips even harder, fucking her savagely now, her self-control all but spent. The two move together, both lost in the pleasurable sensations of coupling.

"Fuck, yes..." Emma gasps. Regina feels her orgasm building from the pressure of the cock's base on her clit and sheer arousal, watching her cock disappear into Emma again and again.

She realizes with a start that she wants to see Emma as she comes undone. She wants to kiss her. The handcuffs come undone and the hands on pale hips are the only thing that stops Emma from falling. The shift in position causes the toy to slide deeper inside than before. She cries out in surprise, the feeling neither pain, nor pleasure. Rather, some confusing marriage of the two.

The blonde protests when Regina pulls out. She is certain it's revenge for halting the brunette the previous morning. But then she is being dragged to the desk, her jeans pulled down to her ankles, ass on the edge and she is filled again. She tilts her head, questioning. No answer comes, but full red lips taking control of her own.

_Well then_. Emma thinks, amused and glad her hands are free. She buries them in Regina's hair as the duel for control. Emma knows that she won't win this time, her reactions too slowed by pleasure.

Regina breaks the kiss, frantically pulling the plain bra over Emma's breasts. She sighs, leaning down and tasting the pink tinged skin. Clean and slightly salty, just like she has been craving. Just as full lips close sround the other nipple, Emma's cell phone starts ringing.

"That's Mary Margaret's ring tone." She says regretfully, fishing it from her pocket. Regina smirks, reaching down and pressing her thumb to Emma's clit.

"Answer it." She dares. Green eyes widen.

"No! It can go to voicemail." She slams the phone down on the desk behind her. She doesn't like the devious smile on the brunette's face. The ringing starts again. Regina takes her lips in another kiss, this one slow. She feels something cold slide into her chest, then it is drawn out. Her eyss open and widen.

"But it might be important." Regina says, deviously plucking the phone up and answering it. Emms doesn't pay attention to what she is saying. No, it's a little hard to care when the voice coming from Regina isn't the normal, sexy, low tones she is used to. Emma watches in horror as her own voice emits from Regina's mouth.

After a few moments the thrusts continue, mid-conversation with her mother! Regina circles her clit just the right way and she is coming. She is coming with no voice, screaming silently, as her lover speaks on the phone to her mother in her own voice.

This is just too many different levels of wrong. She closes her eyes, laying back on the desk, unable to hold herself up anymore. Her walls grip the cock inside her and flood it one last time. Her hands swat and push Regina away from her sex, unable to take any more.

She realizes it is quiet. The phone conversation must have ended at some point. Regina kisses her once more and this time it is with warmth that her voice returns.

"What the hell?" She asks. She wants to sound indignant, but her voice is too hoarse from screaming. Unfair.

"Just a little trick I picked up from Ursula." Regins replies, shrugging it off.

"You're fucking scary sometimes." Emma huffs. Regins laughs.

"I'm scary all the time, you're usually just too stubborn to admit it." She baits. Emma rolls her eyes.

"Whatever you say. What did my mother want?" She asks.

"Oh, Woody is in the forest." She says.

"Woody? Like toy story? Isn't that Pixar?" The blonde sounds exhausted and pride swells in Regina. Damn right.

"First of all, we are not Disney characters. Disney merely redid our stories, fairy tales are much older than animated film. And secondly, I believe Pixar was absorbed into the Disney company in... 2009, if I'm not mistaken. And third, I was referring to your friend August. He's made of wood." She clarifies.

"Oh. Okay." Her legs are still too wobbly to stand. "Regina?" She asks, watching as she takes off the strap on.

"Yes, dear?" Regina smiles fondly at the sex disheveled blonde. She quite likes her this way.

"I can't feel my legs, come sit on my face." The regal woman nearly chokes on nothing.

"I beg your pardon?" She asks incredulously. Emma laughs.

"No you don't, you never beg. You just take. Now come sit on my face." She isn't sure if she's ever seen dark eyebrows rise quite as high before.

"I... no. I wouldn't even know how to do something so depraved." A moment passes, and then Emma laughs. She laughs good and loud.

"But handcuffing me to a cell and fucking me with a strap on and then stealing my voice to answer a phone call from my mother whilst continuing to fuck me until I orgasm, that's all kosher? I call bullshit. Now get up here." Regina considers. She has to admit it's a pretty solid argument.

"Fine." She finally complies, climbing up onto the desk and straddling Emma's mouth with as much dignity as she can manage.

Emma's hands grip her ass and pull her core down against her tongue. She moans at Regina's taste.

"Oh, Emma..." Slowly, hips begin to roll, more confidently at the encouragement of pale hands. Emma looks up at the body above her, amazed that anyone can be so beautiful. Fluid movement becomes jerky, more inconsistent as wetness floods the blonde's mouth. Regina moans, hands behind her, scratching at any part of Emma she can reach. Her eyes close, head thrown back. Emma licks her until she jerks her hips away.

"Oh my god." Regins pants, settling next to Emma. She looks up st the clock on the wall. "You're meeting your mother at Granny's in half an hour."

"Shit." Emms sighs. "I'm exhausted."

The brown eyed woman laughs. "Put yourself together, we can walk over there together. I haven't eaten yet."

"Well, I'm full." Emma jokes. She curls her upper lip and sniffs. Brown eyes widen and a blush paints itself across olive cheeks.

"You're crude." She snaps. Emma grabs her hand, pulling her close and kissing her.

"You like it." Regina smiles. A genuine, soft thing and nods.

"Indeed, I do." She adjusts her skirt and moves toward the door. "Let's go." Both women forget for a moment who they are supposed to be outside of this arrangement, walking in companionable closeness.

* * *

Hit that button. Tell me how you love it!


	5. I Don't Believe

_Tomorrow_

Chapter 5: I Don't Believe

A/N: Edited by yours truly, all mistakes fall down to me. Set after Regina has found out that Greg is Owen. Making Henry less of a brat because I just want him to be! Sorry about the on this chapter. Between relatives being around for the holiday, my birthday, carving out time for my wife (and dog), and class this was hard to pay the right amount of attention to. Sort of a filler-y chapter. More plot and more smut next chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Set after S2E18- _Selfless, Brave and True_. I do not own these characters. I do not own the settings.

* * *

Regina's eyes dart to the clock on her bedside table. 1:11 a.m. the same eyes roll up toward the ceiling as the brunette twists, planting both feet on cold tiles. It is not without some annoyance that she makes her way to the door.

If it is Snow again, begging her for death, she will be obliging.

What if it's Emma? Her mind supplies. But it wouldn't be Emma. Not after the argument they'd gotten into that evening. Regina supposes it was out of line, her comment about blackened sole to that idiot Snow. But dammit, it was a good pun.

Silk robe envelopes a slight frame, the fabric whispering against olive skin. The knocking persists. Regina slips down the stair and opens the front door. She is startled to find her son standing on her step.

"Henry! What are you doing here? It's late! Did you walk here by yourself?" Regina throws the door open further, ushering the boy inside.

"Mom..." Henry begins and falters. His eyes are tired and glassy.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" She worries about her son's haggard appearance. She worries about how it will look in the morning when Emma wakes up and finds her son isn't where he should be.

_He_ is _where he should be. _Her mind reminds her. But she knows the kind of worry finding your son isn't in his bed can instill and she doesn't wish it on the blonde.

Small arms wrap around her waist, she feels her son's cheek pressed against her stomach and cannot help the tears from welling in her eyes. "Everything is wrong." The words are mumbled into her robe. Three words that somehow, neatly, sum up the world.

"I know, Henry. I'm sorry that it's like this." Her son's eyes peer up at her, gaging the truth in her words. He appears to be satisfied.

"I'm sorry about... your mom. Thank you for detroying that curse. I know you want to be better." Regina tightens her grip on the boy. The boy who is saying all the things she has wanted, so desperately, to hear.

"Thank you Henry, you don't know how much that means." She says. Henry pulls from the embrace gently.

"I... I guess I should get back. I just wanted to see you." Regina sighs.

"Hang on for a moment. I'm not trying to force you to stay, let me just call Emma. I don't want you walking home alone at this time." The front door closes as the boy is ushered inside. He takes a seat in the living room, noting the broken mirror in the foyer. Regina picks up her phone and dials Emma.

It takes four rings before a groggy sheriff answers. "H'lo?"

"Good morning! Do you know where my son is?" Regina asks, purposely over cheerful. Their spat earlier hadn't been pretty. Emma hadn't taken kindly to her twisting the knife in Snow's chest. The heavy sigh on the other end speaks volumes of how deep she's dug herself.

"I can only guess that he's not in his bed." Regina rolls her eyes. Henry listens closely, trying to catch the other half of the conversation.

"No, he most certainly is not. And I don't want him to walk home at this time... So you should come and get him." Henry's eyes widen. He waves his hands in front of his face, signalling that this is not a good option for him.

"Why can't you bring him here?" Emma demands, knowing exactly what Regina is doing. Its nearly half past one. Henry will, no doubt, be fast asleep in the fifteen minutes it'll take her to get dressed and drive over. The woman is just trying to get her over there so she can force Emma to forgive her.

"It's too dangerous for me to drive around this town at night. There are still people who would like to harm me and I won't put Henry in that position." This argument is truth. Regina really didn't like the look of Owen. He seemed crazed and she wasn't about to find out if she was right. Not like this. That was an investigation for another time.

"So let him stay the night. I know you aren't going to hurt him." Her heart softens at this. There is trust there, even if Emma is pissed at her. Regina recalls the night outside Granny's. How far they'd come now from it being 'Not such a good idea' for Henry to spend the night.

"While I appreciate the offer and the trust, truly. What about when your _charming_ parents awaken to find their daughter is home but their grandson is gone? How will you explain that he is here and you did nothing about it?" Regina looks up at the sound of soft snoring. She smiles at her son. There are no words to describe how comforting it is to hear that again. To know he is comfortable enough to fall asleep in the home they shared for ten years.

"Okay, I'll be right over." Emma finally replies, officially out of rebuttals, no matter how much of an obvious trap this might be.

"The door is open. Just come right in." Emma's eyebrows rise at this. Yeah, it's a trap alright.

"Yeah, okay. See you in a few." The phone call cuts.

Regina walks over to her sleeping son. She knows he is too heavy to carry upstairs, nearly eleven years old and he is close to her height already. She shakes him gently.

"Mmm, mom? Is Emma here?" He asks, wiping his eyes. Regina shakes her head.

"She's coming, but she's very tired, and so are you. So you're going to spend the night." Henry looks confused.

"Emma is gonna sleep here?" He asks. Regina nods.

"Yes, so that in the morning she can take you home. Now, let's get you up to bed, hmm?" Henry nods, standing and letting himself be led to his old room. Regina lays out his pajamas and turns her back to him, giving him privacy to change. The sound of a bed dipping reaches her ears and she turns back. Henry's clothes are folded and placed on his bedside table. Sleep sits heavy in his eyes.

"Would it be okay if I tucked you in?" She asks. She doesn't want to push. This is all so... surreal. The boy nods, yawning. Regina pulls the quilt up to his shoulders, cacooning him like she did when he was small.

"Thank you. I'm sorry I woke you." Regina smiles at her boy.

"I'm not." She whispers, placing a kiss on his forehead. He smiles and begins snoring again even before she has closed the door to his room. Her boy is home. She smiles brightly. He came to her because she did something good. She chose to do the right thing and for once, he came back to her.

* * *

1:58 a.m.

Full lips pull into frown. Emma should have been here already. As if on cue, the front door opens. "Hey." The blonde says, trying to keep aloof. Regina is in a silk robe. Emma cannot tell what is beneath the silk robe and that is driving her mad.

"You got dressed? You came to sleep here and you got dressed to do so?" Regina asks, perplexed.

"I wasn't sure if that was an invitation to spend the night, or if I was coming to scoop up Henry. And I'm angry with you. But you're really, really attractive, so pajama shorts seemed... too easy." Emma admits. Regina can't help the smirk, nor the accompanying dark chuckle.

She crosses to the blonde, placing her hands at the hend of her jacket. She pulls it up slightly. "You even wore a belt? Dear, I can't help but think these are half-hearted attempts at keeping me out from between your thighs." Regina says, pulling Emma further into the house by the belt.

"Even if you were in full armor, I'd find my way in." Regina all but purrs. Emma shivers at the sultry tone.

"I'm angry with you..." The brunette sighs.

"How anrgy?" She asks, fingers working the buckle of Emma's belt. It comes undone with ease, worn leather folding easily in her hand.

"Very. Couldn't you just leave it alone?" Emma asks, resolve weakening.

"I could have, but I'm me. I don't just leave things alone. You don't seem very angry." Deft fingers move to the buttons of blue jeans. "And you freshened up. If you don't want this why do you smell like you took a shower?" Regina demands cheekily.

"I never said I don't want this. Of course I want it." Emma groans. "Where's Henry?" She asks the two reach the foot of the stair.

"Asleep in his old room. He sleeps deeply." Regina smirks, her fingers pulling on Emma's collar, urging her to the second floor.

Emma can't figure out how her resolve is non-existent when it comes to the brunette. She used to be so good at staying away from dangerous things. Ever since one of those things landed her in prison, pregnant. But the fact is, she can't stop playing moth to Regina's flame.

"Would it make a difference if I said no?" This stops the shorter woman.

"Of course it would. Are you saying no? I have guest bedrooms." Regina calls the bluff, dropping her hands from Emma's clothing. The two women stand halfway between the first and second floor, regarding one another.

"What is it we're doing here?" Emma asks. Regina sighs. "I know this isn't the sexiest conversation, but... I don't want to invest too deeply in something that's all physical. We have a son. Someone will get hurt. And... we're both going to get backlash for whatever this is if someone finds out, which they _will_." Regina nods.

"You want to know if I'm worth the consequences." The brunette challenges, tilting her nose up. Emma shakes her head.

"No. I know that you're worth the consequences." A pale finger lifts her chin. "I want to know if you have more to offer me than your body. I want more. In fact, I need more. I want to know if you'd give this a chance to become more." Green eyes implore the brunette. "You see, for just sex? I'm less incline do that to myself, to Henry. But... for a chance at more, I would happily take the backlash."

Regina feels the lump rise in her throat. "I- Emma, I don't know."

_Love again_... But she isn't ready to.

"I don't know how to love very well. I'm possessive, Emma. I say things I don't mean. I can't see any reason for you to want more of me. No one has wanted more since Daniel. I don't know how to not be broken and evil. I keep fucking it up." Tears shine in chocolate eyes.

"We all fuck up. Even the ones who are supposed to be perfect. I _know_ you don't think I never screw up. You have a great time pointing it out when I do." Emma jokes, nudging the brunette.

"People don't die when you fuck up. You just make yourself look uncouth." Regina returns with a sniffle. The blonde laughs.

"We're quite the pair, aren't we? Just screwing everything up." Emma jokes.

"Tell me why. Why do you want more than just..." Delicate hands gesture to regal figure. "...this?" Emma's gaze follows those hands, certainly appreciating what she sees, before sliding back up to meet the hard brown gaze.

"That's a big question. I like the fact that you challenge me. That you take no shit from anyone." Regina scoffs.

"You like that I'm a bitch?" She clarifies. Emma shrugs.

"Yep. A lot." She grins, cheekily. Regina wants to hit her, but ends up smiling with her. God what was this woman doing to her?

"What? Bitchy looks good on you." Emma winks.

"I thought we weren't talking about physical details." Regina counters, feigning indignation.

"Technically, that was a compliment on the congruence of your personality and your looks. Very different." Emma resits the urge to shrink back when Regina turns an incredulous look on her.

"You're a pain in the ass. And so far what you've said is that you enjoy the fact that I'm a bitch and that I look the part. Not exactly a solid foundation for a relationship." She opens the door to Henry's room.

"Well, why are you entertaining the idea at all?" Emma demands.

The two women peer in at their son. "You gave me the very best thing I've ever had in life. You gave me my son. You've been the only one to give me a chance. To believe I want to change. And... well, that ass." Regina whispers, smirking. Emma places a hand around the smal waist before her, pulling Regina flush against her front.

"And you raised the son I couldn't provide for. You molded him into the young man we're both proud of. We could be a family, the three of us. Like I said, I would defend you against anything for the chance." The sincerity takes Regina by surprise. She has been telling herself for so long that all she needs is Henry, but now? Now she isn't so sure.

"But I'm the evil queen dear." Emma smirks at this.

"If we're talking points in my column, I'm more than willing to take the brunt of your evil queen-ness in the bedroom." A green eye winks in a charmingly, lascivious manner. Regina can't help the shiver that runs down her spine.

"That is a big check in the pro column. Almost offsets your complete lack of decent wardrobe." Green eyes flash at Regina.

"Not all of us have to be label whores. And I'll have you know my boots are high end." The two back out of Henry's room as Regina sniggers.

"To whom?" The brunette demands as the door closes. They cross the few steps to the master bedroom. Regina gasps as she finds herself pressed up against her own door.

"To me." Emma growls, taking full red lips with her own. Regina moans and presses forward, seeking more contact. Her hand blindly seeks out the door knob, twisting. The two tumble into the room.

Regjna immediately changes their positions, pressing Emma against the other side of the same door. "You don't want to change me?" The brunette demands.

"No. I want you as you've been, as you are, as you will be." Regina moans at the answer. She has been waiting to hear those words for as long as she can remember. Emma allows her hands to be held at her sides. She can tell that the brunette needs control. She's happy to give it over.

Regina doesn't bother going through the motions of removing the blonde's clothes. She watches green eyes widen as hers flood with purple. Emma recognizes the signs of Regina's magic and isn't surprised to find herself naked.

"And you?" Emma ventures. Regina shakes her head.

"I'm not going to do everything for you." She takes control of Emma's lips again, pushing the pale hands into the wall and binding them there. She knows Emma has magic, she wants to see it.

Emma groans when teeth sink into her collarbone, wrestling with the invisible bonds at her wrists. "This is cheating." She grinds out between teeth.

"So do something about it." Regina teases, pinching a pink nipple and tsking the other in her mouth. Emma's head falls back against the door.

"How?" She moans. Regina chuckles.

"Think about what's fueled your magic before and pull from that place." Regina explains, hands running down pale waist. Abruptly she stands straight for another kiss.

She stops short at the blue glow of Emma's eyes. She feels the purity of her magical signature, nearly blinding in its ferocity. She can even smell the magic, disctinctively Emma Swan, like a field of grass after a lightening storm.

She registers her robe opening, her negligee rising, her panties sliding down. She decides to allow it, lifting her arms and allowing the garment to come off, stepping out of her panties gracefully. When she looks back up at Emma she is surprised to find that her hands are free.

She is even more surprised when those hands push her easily down onto her own bed. "Emma, that's enough. Don't do too much, it'll weaken you."

Slowly electric blue fades back into green. "I can see why you find it hard not to use magic. That felt fucking incredible. I don't feel weak." Emma revels in the feel of Regina, naked and soft and hot. Pale hands knead the smooth skin of the brunette's waist. Regina responds by way of lips. Pulling herself up with a hand on the blonde's shoulder, brushing her red mouth across Emma's jaw.

"That's good, you'll need all your strength if you're going to keep up." Regina teases, nipping an ear.

"Regina... you didn't answer my question." The words sre stunted, difficult to say with the beautiful woman on her.

"Can't we just let this be what it is? It's lovely right now." Regina murmurs against pale throat. Emma stiffens.

"Actually... no. No I can't do this." Brown eyes widen, watching Emma disengage from her. The blonde stands, free of modesty, as if to torment Regina. She is quite the sight, tall and strong, all curves and lines. "I'll see myself to one of the guestrooms." She says, making her way to the pile of her clothes.

Regina rises when Emma reaches the door, opening it halfway. "Don't be ridiculous!" The former mayor commands. Suddenly the air feels thick. The door knob slips from Emma's hand as the door slams shut. "You... you will not do this. Come back here. Right. _Fucking_. Now!" The blonde turns around, seething.

"I'm not just a woman from whom you can take. I, like any other human being, require give. So, no. I'm not going to let you pick and choose which parts of me suit you." The brunette crosses the room in just a few furious steps. Slamming the blonde against her door for the second time.

"Oh, but I quite like your parts. And we both know you enjoy what I do to them. Stop being so difficult. I'm giving you what you said you wanted. To raise Henry together. But to love you? I don't know how to do that. I'm not asking to take, I'm asking only for what we have. A friendly enough relationship with some fucking thrown in." Emma watches red lips as the word 'fucking' spills from it. She is perplexed by the way the cuss is so attractive on that mouth.

She can't pretend she doesn't want Regina's touch. There is enough physical evidence to prosecute. But for all the bravado and all the running she's done, Emma craves something that is hers. Green eyes harden. She can see now what she is worth to the brunette.

"Fine. You want it like that? You want to be friends who fuck and just happen to have a son together? Fine. But you'd better mean it, because if that's your decision, I will never, ever allow myself to love you. Do you understand? You'd better make sure you don't have feelings for me now or ever. You choose my body over my heart? Then that's all you'll get." Regina isn't at all sure about this.

"Why is everything absolutes with you? Why can't it be that this is where we are and we see where it goes? Why does this need to be decided tonight? " Green eyes regard the witch.

A sneer takes hold of thin lips. Too many times Emma has heard those same words.

_We'll foster her and see where it goes from there_.

And always, they threw her back. Not again. Not ever again. "Because I don't believe in tomorrow. I find I'm not in the mood, Regina. And I'm still angry with you. So thanks for calling about Henry and goodnight." This time the door allows her to leave and she walks down the hall. Regina flinches at the sound of one of her own rooms closing her out.

She wonders, again, why it is that she destroys the things she cares for.

* * *

Hit that button. Tell me how you love it!


	6. A Pleasant Surprise

_Tomorrow_

_Chapter 6: _A pleasant surprise

_Disclaimer_: Still don't own the characters or settings. Rated M for language and sexual themes.

_A/N_: I figure we could all use a little more fluff after the shit storm. I have a hard time writing fluff and I have to imagine marshmallow fluff while I do, because I'm a fat kid at heart. So grab a spoon and indulge! Edited by me, mistakes are mine.

* * *

The warmth in the bed next to her is surprising. After all, its not like the night had ended well. It ended with Emma hurt, because of Regina's inability not to ruin things. Why the blonde would have returned to her bed is beyond Regina.

"I thought we weren't doing this?" Regina grumbles. No answer. The brunette peels an eye open. Asleep. Utterly asleep. But... naked? What on earth?

_Don't tell me I got drunk and blacked out on sex..._

But that just couldn't be it. That was never it. Regina rarely drinks to excess and _never_ forgets sex. Never. She reaches a hand out and shakes the other woman.

"Hey, what are you doing in my bed?" Regina whispers, insistently. Emma groans.

"Too early baby, go back to sleep." She yawns out, rolling into a more comfortable position. A position involving her arms wrapped around Regina's waist, body pressed flush to the brunette.

"Miss Swan! That's awfully familiar for someone who walked out last night!" Regina pulls away from the body pressed into hers. Emma finally opens her eyes.

"Sweetie? What are you talking about? I would never walk out." Green eyes fill with worry. Brown stare back in confusion. Regina feels a hand slide over her own and it is then, in that moment that she feels the ring on her finger. She rips their hands up, there is a beautiful engagement ring and wedding band set on _that_ finger.

"_Mom_!" It comes as if from the ceiling, from above. She feels her body being rocked, shifted and still those green eyes observe her.

Her body jerks as Regina wakes. Henry is taken aback by the sudden stirring of the woman who moments ago had been deep in a fretful sleep. His head tilts to the side as his mother examines her left hand. Strange behavior.

"Mom, are you okay? You were tossing and turning..." She looks up at her son, his head still tilted to the side.

"I'm fine Henry, just had a strange dream is all." She glances at the bedside clock. 8:22. "Why aren't you in school?" She demands. And the boy's head straightens back up.

"Because it's saturday?" The answer is without sarcasm. He is genuinely concerned for his obviously disoriented mother.

"Oh. Then why are you awake?" She grumbles, leaning back into the bed.

"Emma's trying to cook in your kitchen. I figured you'd wanna know something like that." Henry smirks, he knows his mother well. She doesn't even like for _him_ to be in the kitchen. He laughs as she bolts out of the bed, silk pajamas swooshing as she runs downstairs.

She gets to the kitchen and is immediately relieved that there is no smoke. The blonde hasn't burned her house down as of yet. "Just thought you'd make yourself at home?" Regina spits. Henry watching from the doorway. He wants to watch this scene unfold.

"The kid is hungry, you were asleep. Not to mention you invited me to stay last night." Green eyes sharpen to a dangerous point, directed at Regina. Her words are specifically vague because of Henry, who is, in fact, surprised by the lack of comeback. But Regina gets the message.

You'll get me over here and let me fuck you, but I can't make some eggs?

Emma is actually a pretty decent cook, just lazy. So when she asked Henry what his mother likes to eat in the morning he was shocked to see her go about pulling out all of the necessary ingredients, with purpose.

It wasn't the first time he'd wondered what puts the batteries in her butt when it comes to Regina.

Now though, there is quite a lovely egg white, spinach and mushroom omelet and side of fresh fruit sitting on the kitchen island, accompanied by cup of tea, with milk and sugar.

"What's all this?" Regina asks, moving further into the kitchen. Emma doesn't answer, just turns back to the stove.

"Breakfast! I wanted to apologize for the late night interruption, but I know you don't let me use the stove unsupervised, so I asked Emma to help out." Emma raises her spatula in acknowledgement, never turning from the task at hand.

"I told you, it was no trouble at all..." Regina assures the boy, she is touched though. The domesticity of the blonde cooking in her kitchen is almost too much to handle. She subconsciously strokes her left ring finger for a moment, before forcefully stopping herself. "But thank you both. This looks lovely."

Henry grins and makes his way over to Emma, watching as she scrambles his eggs, turkey bacon cooking on a second burner and finally, silver dollar pancakes in a heavy griddle.

Regina watches the blonde tend to all three, impressed to say the least. She smiles when Emma hands the spatula over to Henry, leaning over the pancakes.

"You see how the batter on top is filling with air bubbles? That's how we know its time to flip them. They'll be golden and perfect, with that crispy ring on the outside." She takes the boy's hand and guides it to flipping. The first one lands a bit lopsided. A disappointed look overtakes her son.

"That's okay, kid. It'll taste the same and that one... will have character. Let's try another." Regina takes a bite of her breakfast, finding it more than adequate. It seems the blonde has remembered her penchant for a bit of spice and grated some pepper jack over the eggs. She isn't able to contain her moan of contentment.

Emma turns to her as if slapped. Henry is busy flipping. The two of them stare at one another. Regina's fork still in her mouth. Emma's eyes wide. They're both struck by the memory of what happened, only days ago, in this very room. Regina blushes and pays attention to her plate. Emma forces herself to turn away.

"Hey! Those look great, kid!" Henry smiles politely.

"What's up with you two?" He asks, quietly. Silence hangs heavy. "If you don't want me to know, you shouldn't act so weird. So tell me." He prods.

"Your mother and I are working through some things." Emma explains.

"What kind of things?" He pushes, knowing it might blow up in his face. But this is weird and he wants to know. Regina has, for all intents and purposes, gone tharn.

"Stuff about me?" The blonde eyes her son. He knows that isn't it. And she's annoyed at him for baiting her into an easy lie.

Little shit, he is sometimes. Like_ her._

"No, Henry. We're doing pretty well on you. We're figuring out how we get along with one another." The young man scoffs.

"That's easy, you don't." He replies, smartly. Regina finally comes to herself again.

"Well, that's something that we're working on. Don't you think things would be better if the three of us got along?" She implores. Emma notices this time when the brunette strokes her finger. Weird. Her son's eyebrows knit together.

"Yeah, I guess that would be better..." He is unable to keep the suspicion from his voice. "Is it more than that? You guys can just tell me! I'm really good at keeping secrets!" Both of his mothers look at one another in shock. Finally it is Emma who nods.

"Yeah, kid. I care about your mom." She says quietly, knowing that it's better to have her son on her side than lie to him. She curses her lie-detecting ability and the fact that he inherited it. To her surprise he just nods at her.

"Yeah, I know. I could tell. You're always defending her when people say nasty things and you invited her to your welcome back party." Henry explains, looking like Sherlock Holmes at the end of an investigation. Smug. She is unable to decide which of them he gets that expression from.

"Mom? Do you care about Emma?" Regina pushes her plate away.

"Did the two of you plan this?" She demands. Both of them give her the same annoyed expression.

"Of course not! I don't plot against you with our son!" Righteous indignation paints Emma with a tinge of pink across her cheekbones.

"Oh, but don't you? I seem to recall hearing the distinct crackling of a two-way radio and many late conversations about Operation; Cobra. I expect my son to believe a covert name would throw me off the trail, but you? You should know better." Regina spits.

"That... that was different. This is about... personal, adult issues. Not theories about fairy tales being real! And frankly, that still seem outlandish, even after having lived this!" Henry looks between the two women. He settles on Regina.

"She didn't plan this out. I'm your son. I notice things. Just like you." Henry implores Regina to see reason. She is halted by those words. Just like her. Not long ago he was telling her how much he didn't want to be like her.

"Yes, you certainly are." She whispers. Her eyes meet green from across the kitchen island. She crosses the floor and lays a hand on Henry's cheek. "Yes, I care about her." His smile is beautiful. Emma inhales sharply. It isn't the first time Regina has said these words, but they mean so much after the night they had.

"So... yeah. One of you should probably take the other on a proper date." Emma snorts as Regina flushes. She ruffles her son's hair and lays a hand on Regina's arm.

"There's no rush, kid. Now, lets eat." Breakfast is comfortable. Henry talks through it, as Emma and Regina sneak glances at one another. Emma laughs suddenly. The two Mills' look up, surprised. Identical expressions of confusion.

"Henry, how long have you known?" Emma asks. He shrugs.

"The night Snow first came home depressed, you snuck out. When I found out what happened, I knew where you'd gone. Then the next morning, your eyes were all puffy..." He realizes too late the hole he just dug himself into.

Aha! Emma thinks to herself. Kid knew the whole time. She isn't sure if she's annoyed or proud. Henry's cheeks turn pink.

"Tell her." Emma encourages, her tone let's her son know that its not a request, but a requirement.

"Okay... Mom, it wasn't Emma and I who planned this conversation. It was just me. That's why I snuck over here last night. I wanted to see you and do some recon on the situation. I knew Emma liked you, but I had to find out if you felt the same. And now I know." The boy gives his adoptive mother the don't-be-mad-I-did-it-out-of-love face.

"I see." Regina replies, standing to clean up the kitchen. "And you don't mind that we care for one another?" Regina asks.

"No, it kind of makes sense actually. You were good until your love was taken from you. And you're trying to be good now, because you have people to love again. And I was thinking, in the book, Snow and Charming didn't like each other at first either. Like, at all." He explains. As if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

He allows his mother to pull him into a hug and smiles when she feels her lips press against his head. "Thank you, Henry. And keep in mind that this is really is a secret. Go ahead and clean up." He nods and turns to walk out, throwing an arm briefly around Emma. She ruffles his hair again and he heads upstairs.

"Wow, huh? What a kid." Emma says, just to break the silence.

"He thinks that you and I are going to have some fairy tale ending." Regina sighs. "Those never seem to work out when they involve me. And now his feelings are at stake too." She finishes the dishes and turns around. Emma takes a few steps and wipes the tears from the brunette's cheeks.

"He and I are willing to take the risk." The blonde mutters, pressing her lips to Regina's, chastely. For once the brunette allows herself to fold into Emma. The kiss is slow and affectionate. Free of sexual desperation, only hinting at desire.

"Moms! Is it okay if I go play?!" Henry calls from the top of the stair.

Emma looks to Regina, questioning. "Well?"

"You don't have to ask my opinion. You took him to New York without consulting me." Regina spits.

"I don't have to, but I respect you and I'm asking for it." Emma replies. The smile on her lover's face makes something in her melt.

"Yes, go ahead. Be careful and have fun!" Regina shouts in reply.

"Thanks!" Feet thunder down the stairs and a moment later the front door slams closed.

It takes but a moment for Emma to put her hands on Regina, teeth finding the sensitive skin below her ear.

"Not angry with me anymore, then?" The brunette teases. Emma bites down, satisfied with the cry she evokes from Regina.

"Still just a little. But I'm sure we can think of a way for you to make it up." Emma teases, slipping her hands down Regina's waist and lower to grasp her ass. "But as of now, I'm on duty. David and Mary Margaret are having... alone time." The blonde looks acutely uncomfortable with that knowledge.

"You need a shower at least, sheriff." Regina purrs. Emma smirks.

"But I took one last night." She teases. Regina smirks, snaking her hand into Emma's shorts and running a finger up her slit.

"We should probably clean this up though, sheriff. I'd hate for you to be distracted and get hurt on the job... I won't take no for an answer. The safety of the town is on the line!" Emma laughs at the overly dramatic performance of her lover and allows herself to be pulled up to her bedroom again.

"I want to see you all wet." Regina whispers into the blonde's ear. A shiver run through Emma. Whether she means from the shower or her pussy, Emma cannot tell or care. All she knows is that she wants that too.

"About last night-"

"No, we can talk about that later." The brunette begins pulling Emma's clothes off. She won't be denied this time. Won't begin a conversation that will probably upset the blonde again. Not now.

Emma nods. She wants to apologize for storming out, but not at the expense of this moment. Not when the future is imminent and discussions about it will still be there later.

"Kiss me." Regina demands, bringing Emma back to the present. She wastes no time, capturing requested lips with her own. And its everything. It's every moment of acceptance she's ever longed for, every bit of recognition the world has refused her. The kiss deepens, hands roaming, seeking purchase on anything, everything. Gripping, pulling, needing and demanding.

Has she ever known what is is to _need_ before now? Has she ever known that such desire can be fueled by the thrumming of her quickened heartbeat? Regina breaks the kiss, taking the blonde's hand and pulling her to the en suite bathroom. She turns the shower on, gasping as Emma rids her of the silky pajama bottoms.

Emma turns the brunette from the shower, gripping the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head to deposit it on the floor. Their movements are slow and urgent, neither wanting to rush through it. They know that in this world, nothing is promised. Savoring is necessary.

The women stumble into the shower, never taking their hands from each other until Regina reaches for her body wash. She works the gel into a lather and reverently spreads it across pale skin. The action is more intimite than Emma could have imagined. It is not sexual, but affectionate, caring.

Regina allows Emma to do the same for her, luxuriating in the feeling of being touched so simply, without expectation or force. The water rinses away suds, leaving both bare and clean before one another. Eyes feasts, hands join in.

It seems a small forever before Regina slips a hand between the blonde's thighs, hissing at the warmth she finds. Emma gasps as fingers press at her entrance, teeth digging into her throat. Regina props one of her legs up, sliding into Emma.

"Oh gods..." The blonde moans. Regina smirks and begins a slow pace, softly working inner walls. Emma's hand burns a train down olive skin, matching the pace set by the brunette on her clit.

Regina groans in pleasure. "Emma..."

But the blonde barely hears her own name over the combined sensation of feeling Regina within her and pleasuring her. The world is naught but touch, word incoherent. Her hips drive toward the source of her pleasure, hand increasing pace to match brunette intentions.

And for a moment there is nothing. There is a void, the absence of space and time before the fall. Her fingers, rather than lose their rhythm, become more frantic still as her body clamps around its welcome intruder. Regina follows, clinging to her savior, biting down on her shoulder and rocking into her. Wishing that such moments were less ephemeral. She wishes for this to last, closing her eyes to the nearing end of her orgasm.

When she looks up, green eyes are shining at her. Emma feels the irrational pull to say something ridiculous like I love you, but tempers it. Words that cannot be taken back should never be said in moments of post coital bliss.

"You're beautiful." She opts for instead and the smile the observation receives confirms it being the right thing.

"Turn around." Emma raises an eyebrow.

"So I can wash your hair, freca." Regina teases. Emma smiles, liking the sound of Spanish on full lips. Fingers work deftly through blonde tresses. Emma sighs contentedly.

"Thank you." Emma breathes. Not really sure what she's thanking Regina for. But the brunette doesn't feel the need to question her reasoning.

"You're welcome." She replies, rinsing the conditioner from Emma's hair. She pats the sheriff on the ass. "I want to soak in here for a bit longer, I trust you are capable of seeing yourself out? If you weren't late to work before, you certainly are now." Her tone is light. And Emma nods, kissing her once more, before seeing herself out of the shower.

"How about Henry and I come and cook you dinner tonight? Since we did such a good job of breakfast..." The brunette smiles.

"I would very much like that, Emma." She replies, feeling content, but also scared. The blonde returns her smile.

"Okay, gotta go!" She says, heading out to the bedroom and looking at her clothes. She didn't bring a spare set so she skips the underwear and heads out in last night's clothes. No one saw her but Regina anyway.

The brunette allows herself to soak for a few minutes longer. She needs to figure out what she is going to do about the Owen situation. The man still hadn't left and he was likely to ruin everything if he stayed much longer. She knows a vendetta when she sees one. Small hands shut the shower and Regina heads into her own bedroom, deciding that she wants to find her son and spend a bit more time with him. At some point she will have to face reality, but she wants to hold off on it for a bit longer.

* * *

Hit that button! Tell me how you love it!


End file.
